Seeking Assistance
by jenmc
Summary: STORY COMPLETE - sequel (Seeking Satisfaction) now published in M rated section. Charles James is a successful businessman, and Molly Dawes his loyal sidekick and PA. With Molly by his side he knows he can take on the world and win. But when she realises
1. Chapter 1

As Molly Dawes strode down the busy London street at 9am, she felt the early November chill in the air and pulled her scarf tighter around her neck, gripping the two takeaway coffee cups in her hand to savour their warmth. She was running much later than her usual 7.30 am start. Molly was usually always the first in the office, starting work whilst the cleaners finished their early morning shifts, and savouring the extra hour of silent peace before the place came to life so that she could get things in order for the day before the boss arrived in the office. He was predictable in that sense, always sure to arrive at 8.30 in his workout gear, sweaty from his early morning run, with a towel wrapped round his neck. From then, he would disappear for a shower and be at his desk 20 minutes later, ready to begin the day.

It was a well established routine. Just before 9am, Molly would deliver his morning coffee to his desk and sit with him for around fifteen minutes, briefing him on his diary for that day, outlining any appointments that were lined up and generally preparing for the day ahead.

Only, today was different. She had been at the dentist; something which she had warned him about before she left the previous evening. She was 99% sure he would have _conveniently_ forgotten about that reminder by now. She had at least anticipated that fact, and visited Starbucks on her way to the office, ready to greet him with a coffee in her hand. Sure enough, as she made her way towards the imposing building where she spent most of her days, she heard her phone ring in the depth of her coat pocket. Stacking the two cups on top of each other with one hand as she entered the automatic rotating doors, she pulled the offender from her pocket and glued it to her ear with her shoulder, catching the teetering cups with her free hand before they fell from the other one. Before she had a chance to speak, his velvet smooth, but clearly irritated tone boomed from the handset.

"Where are you? It's past 9."

"I told you last night - I had the dentist this morning" she smiled at Pearl, the receptionist for the whole of the building, and mouthed a silent hello as she walked past, still finely balancing the coffee cups as she tried not to drop the phone. Pearl could see her balancing act and moved to open the security point so that Molly didn't have to swipe her ID to pass the glass barrier. The older lady with a sleek, jet black bob of hair was met with a grateful 'thanks' mouthed at her as Molly obviously rolled her eyes at the response she heard on the phone.

"I'll be there in two minutes, I'm down in reception right now. Yes, I'll bring coffee, I've got it here." She sighed with frustration as she ended the call and put the phone back in her coat pocket.

"What's he ever gonna do if he has to cope without you sweetheart?" Pearl ventured to the harassed looking young woman, moving from her desk to swipe "10", the floor number for Astratto Developments, where Molly was headed. She didn't need to ask who had been on the other end of the phone.

"Christ knows Pearl, let's hope we don't have to find out. He might even need to make his own bloody coffee one day when I'm not there..!" The lift pinged to signal its arrival at the ground floor.

"God forbid, Molly! That man needs you. Behind every successful man is a great woman, and you're his." Pearl grinned as she watched Molly pass her in a rush, jumping into the metal carriage as the doors opened.

"You tell him that next time you see him. And while you're at it, tell him I deserve a raise for putting up with all his crap!" She yelled as the lift doors closed in front of her.

The lift pinged open at the tenth floor, followed by a harassed looking Molly, her cheeks pink from the temperature change between the freezing cold street and the office. She barely had a chance to discard her coat at her desk before gathering herself for a brief second and entering the door to his office.

"About bloody time too, I was beginning to think something had happened." Charles James stood at the window observing the view of the streets below him. He watched her approach with a cocked eyebrow before he withdrew his hands from his pockets and gratefully took the cup from her outstretched hand as she neared him at the window.

"No such luck. I still get to come in and have you bend my ear, plus the joy of a filling." His thoughtful face didn't waver despite her joking tone, something which in ordinary circumstances would draw at least a smile from him. "What's the matter with you anyway?" Molly stood beside Charles at the window, surveying the view for just a second. She hardly ever had a chance to stop and appreciate the vast acres of skyline which the window offered a view of. The early winter chill gave everything a faint white glow. It was a spectacular sight.

She stopped to watch him from the corner of her eye. His tall frame was almost pressed against the glass, and he cut a striking figure, his tailored suit cut to suit his tall, lean figure perfectly. Molly wasn't blind, she knew that on most days he looked as if he had walked into his office straight from the cover of a magazine. But today, there was something so mournful in his stance that she found herself drawn towards him, wanting to comfort him, almost ready to place a consoling hand on his broad back. She cleared her throat awkwardly when he didn't answer, hoping that the noise would force the strange feeling she currently felt coursing through her. It was clearly just concern for her boss, she reassured herself, ignoring the fleeting sense of denial in her stomach.

"Nothing." He looked up at her and reassured her with a small smile. "Just thinking."

"Ain't that what you're paid to do?"

"Something like that." He smiled briefly and raised his head to the side as if to say something further, before thinking better of it and drinking his cup of coffee in silence. After a couple of mouthfuls, he spoke whilst staring straight out ahead to the view in front of him. He seemed to brace himself before finally saying what was on his mind.

"The divorce was finalised today."

 _Of course_. She should have known this date was due to fall soon. She cursed herself for failing to remember that it had been six months since he first confided in her that he was divorcing Rebecca. They had spoken little of it since, Charles disclosing only the bare bones of the marriage breakdown and subsequent divorce. She hadn't wanted to push him into offering further information. In the absence of any comforting words, she simply spoke the truth.

"Sorry."

"Don't be." He smiled genuinely at her this time. "It's been a long time coming." His mood seemed to lift slightly as he moved towards his leather chair, casting the serious tone of the conversation aside as he leaned back in it and placed his hands behind his head. "So what _delights_ do I have in store today?" He smirked at the downright sarcasm of his question.

Molly bit back a laugh at the almost magazine like pose as he continued to watch her from the chair. He was clearly unwilling to talk about the domestic stuff any more. Point taken. She required no pieces of paper or screens in front of her to answer his question anyway. Knowing his precise schedule in her head was the way she operated. Neither of them were particular fans of mountains of paperwork, both preferring the face to face approach.

"You've got Mr Banks coming in at 10 for a meeting. I've booked you a boardroom." At the look of contempt on Charles' face, Molly offered a further explanation. "He says he needs a few hours with you." She smirked internally, keeping as straight a face as possible as she heard him curse lightly under his breath. She resisted the urge to laugh as he looked at her beseechingly.

"A few hours? I don't think I can stand him for more than a few minutes. The man's an absolute moron."

"Listen, just count yourself lucky you're a bloke. He's 'accidentally' brushed my arse with his hand twice now; next time he does it I'm gonna have to chin him."

"Jesus. He'll be lucky if he comes out of that with his hand intact." From the last couple of years spent working with Molly, he knew exactly how sharp she could be when she was irritated. One of the things he admired most about his assistant was her ability to cut through the bullshit and tell it like it was, so he supposed he couldn't fault her for standing her ground.

"If I were him, I'd be worried about more delicate body parts than his hand gettin' damaged." She giggled as he winced sympathetically, before they ran through the remainder of his schedule for a couple of minutes.

* * *

"Morning Molls" the cheerful greeting was issued by Emily, her fellow PA, as Molly emerged from Charles' office and sat at her desk. The pair sat on desks facing each other outside of the offices of their respective bosses. Arguably, it was at this bank of desks that the real engine work of the company was undertaken. Outsiders were quick to assume that the executives were the ones calling the shots, but both Molly and Emily were the engines who were well used to keeping everything ticking over as it should.

Emily worked for Richard Yardley, one of the new up and coming executives, who was under the false apprehension that he was the most important person in the company. Molly had lost count of the number of times she had bitten her tongue when in his company; he was a smartly dressed viper, in her honest opinion. Countless stories of weekends spent sailing with his toffee nosed friends, or summering in Europe with his fiancé and parents were constantly told and re-told, with a smattering of name dropping for good measure. If his life was half as wonderful as he claimed it was, Molly wondered why on earth he was so hell bent on making Emily's such a misery. Nothing was ever good enough, no job ever carried out to his satisfaction. Emily, to her credit, had tried over the 6 months she had been working for the company to up her game and please him, but was quickly realising that it was something of an impossible task.

"Mornin' Em" Molly tapped her pencil against the desk intermittently as she considered how awful it would be to be in the younger girl's shoes. She had struck it lucky with Charles, and she knew it. Although he had a temper at times and was demanding of her time and attention, he was always respectful and polite. On the rare times where that hot temper had peaked and blown, it had been aimed at those who deserved it, rather than his loyal assistant.

"He's been a right old pain in the arse this morning, almost as bad as Richard on a good day" Emily whispered loudly and aimed her head at Charles' door. "Do me a favour and give me some warning next time you're not gonna be here!"

"Sorry mate, he's in a funny mood."

Emily's eyes lit up at the nugget of information. "Wonder what's up? Maybe it's trouble at home?" The look of bold enquiry was apparent on Emily's face and Molly just managed to stop herself before she nodded in agreement.

"What makes you say that?" Molly tried her best to maintain an innocent, enquiring posture. She'd kept her gob shut for 6 months now, and was now well practiced in the act of pretending to the office gossips that everything was fine with him.

Emily looked around her to double check that there were no observers close enough to catch what she was saying, and stalked over to Molly's desk as though she was an international spy. Molly had to giggle at the sight as she made her way to the desk, sitting on the wooden surface as she looked intently at Molly.

"Don't tell me you haven't heard the gossip?" The excited whisper left her mouth in a rush.

"What gossip?" The colour drained from Molly's cheeks as she realised that the news had gotten out. He really couldn't keep it quiet forever; he had done well to keep it hushed up for as long as he did.

"Him and Rebecca - they've split up apparently. She's been having it off with some other fella."

"Where d'you hear that?" Molly thought it wisest to keep her questioning as vague as possible to try and stall, but it was pointless.

"Shit, it's true then?" Emily noticed the lack of surprise in Molly's demeanour and drew her own conclusions. There was no answer from Molly, just a deep sigh.

Emily continued with her monologue, still leaning against the wooden desk with her arms closed tightly. "Who the fuck would cheat on him Molls? I mean, the man is an absolute god!"

"Oh do me a favour! Shut up Em. I know you lot can't keep your eyes off him but he's my boss. It feels all wrong to think of him like that."

Emily couldn't be persuaded away from her thoughts and continued, a look of daydreaming wonder on her face as she vocalised her thoughts with a low whisper. "There's nothing wrong about it, just imagine it now Molls. Him comin' in one morning from one of his runs, all sweaty and gorgeous. He could chuck his top right off, then sweep all the stuff off your desk, lift you onto it and have his wicked way with you. I bet he'd go on for hours and hou-"

"EMILY!" She was distracted from her lusty rambling by a scream from Richard's door. "I don't fucking keep you here to gossip, get on with whatever the fuck you're supposed to be doing." His last sentence wasn't even finished by the time Emily had recovered her flushed composure and replaced herself at her desk. She left behind a breathless Molly, who wasn't quite sure what had come over her at the erotic thoughts Emily had encouraged her to picture. She shifted awkwardly in her seat as she continued to imagine the scenario that had been spelled out for her; Charles topless before her, with papers thrown from the desk, her skirt bundled round her waist and her bare legs wrapped around him as he thrusted. She felt a little bead of perspiration gather on her forehead as she visualised it all so very clearly. Not to mention the growing moisture elsewhere.

Fuck. _Where the bleeding hell did that little fantasy come from?_

She shook her head forcefully, wrapping her arms around her body to dispel the goosebumps that had gathered all over her, and carried on with the paperwork she had been meaning to start for days.

She really needed to get past her current dry spell if she was so desperate that she had now resorted to workplace fantasies of her and her boss.

Because clearly, that was going nowhere.

* * *

 **AN. I'm seriously beginning to wonder if fanfiction writing is on some level similar to drug or alcohol addiction. I've never been addicted to anything, but finding it mighty difficult to kick the habit of writing! So, when faced with a very long and boring train journey today, what else could I do but write something?! This is very AU Molly and Charles and just a bit of a fun diversion, not meant to be taken too seriously. I very much hope you enjoyed reading it, because I thoroughly enjoyed writing it! Oh yes, and the only reason I had the bottle to publish this is because of encouragement from it'sembarrassing - she is entirely responsible, so please feel free to blame her for me letting myself loose on you all again :-D**


	2. Chapter 2

7am.

Charles ran through the London streets effortlessly on the dark November morning. There was very little activity on the streets at this early hour; his early morning run was his chance for peace and calm. He always started the day with the journey on foot from his flat to the office. The flow of adrenaline set him up nicely for the day. It was a habit he had begun when he accepted the job of Developments Director at Astratto, 3 years ago.

At that time, he was working his way up the chain with another company, spending his spare time relentlessly scouring the market for further opportunities when his old friend Marco dropped back into his life. They had studied briefly at university together, Marco spending a year studying in England having travelled from his home country of Italy. Marco was every single kind of stereotype that you would expect of a young italian; suave, sophisticated, and with an emphatic self-belief that he would make his own fortune rather than rely on others to employ him. He founded Astratto with a reasonable amount of kick-start money loaned to him by his parents, building up from a base in Milan. He used his initial capital to invest in land, taking advantage of his charm and contacts to promote development of housing facilities on that land. The capital raised by the initial project was sufficient to allow him to invest in more areas, and within a few years he had built up a respectable business in his home country. However, he was unwilling to stop there. Astratto soon developed into an up and coming European operation, a variety of sound investments allowing him to expand and open offices in Madrid, Copenhagen, Paris and London.

When the time came to open in London, Marco knew exactly the team he wanted, and Charles was at the heart of that team. The two men had been firm friends when they studied together. However, that wasn't what made Marco sure of offering Charles a key place in his new team. Marco knew that Charles was one of the most impressive strategists in the business world; he had spent the early years of his career building up a reputation in the market for his calm head, pragmatic ability to make decisions, and best of all, his sound judgement. These were all factors which Marco considered to be essential and Charles ticked the boxes. The personal connection was an added bonus, and meant that the bond between them was already in place. Charles had proven himself to be an essential cog in the wheel at Astratto, the clients and fellow colleagues warming to him immediately.

Although things were going well in the professional sense, his personal life was a complete and utter disaster. The divorce from Rebecca had been in the offing for a number of years, and Charles harboured an unsettling guilt that his constant absence whilst focusing on his career was the defining factor behind the failure of his marriage. He and Rebecca had a fairytale wedding, and it was genuinely the happiest day of his life when he saw her walk up the aisle towards him. However, the marital bliss only lasted for around 6 months before the reality of marriage to a man who was already married to his career dawned on Rebecca. They dissolved into a steady rhythm of her erupting with anger every few months at his commitment to the office. Charles would deliver the necessary apologies, cut back on his commitments and then break his promises and steadily pull away as he was drawn back into work. He couldn't really blame her for finding somebody else. He had proven himself to be a thoroughly shit husband. The problem was that whilst he did love Rebecca in a way, he found himself actively avoiding her for most of the time they were married. They had very little in common by the end of their union. It was only when considering how very different they were that he found himself wondering why the hell he had married her in the first place. It had seemed the right thing to do at the time. The only saving grace had been the fact that they didn't have any kids. It was unfair enough of him to neglect his wife, thankfully there had been no kids involved to hurt with the divorce.

His breathlessness continued to ramp up as his feet pounded the pavement, every step easing some of the tension in his body. He neared the office building where he spent the majority of his life and stopped to catch his breath. He stood breathless and drenched in sweat as he placed his hands on his hips and looked up at the imposing building.

This was all he had ever dreamed of. A successful career. Professionally, he could do no wrong, and had managed to earn almost enough money in three short years to afford him the most comfortable of lifestyles.

 _So why do I feel so bloody empty?_

* * *

As Charles entered the narrow corridor which led to his office, he caught sight of movement at Molly's desk and realised she must have made an even earlier start than she usually did. He had to fight a smirk as he approached; she sat at her chair, legs and shoeless feet tucked under her, with earphones in her ear, immersed in whatever music she was playing. She was singing and humming along intermittently, but he couldn't for the life of him make out the song. She read from a pile of papers in front of her, whilst also eating a bowl of cereal from her lap, pausing every few seconds to load another spoonful into her mouth.

He stalked over to the desk and crouched down to the opposite side, bringing his eyes level with hers and grinning widely. The sudden movement in front of her made her look up quickly, jumping when she spotted him crouching in front of her desk. She dropped the spoon into the bowl in shock, leaving a small splash of milk to decorate her lap.

"Shitting hell!" she pulled the earphones from her ears, leaving a dull and tinny blast of music to continue playing from them. "Where'd you sneak up from?" She grabbed a handful of paper tissues from the box on her desk to recover the spilled milk on her lap.

"Nowhere. I'm early. Sorry to disturb your impromptu breakfast party." He smirked at her casual attitude, guessing she would only spend time at her desk barefoot and singing when she didn't think anybody else would be around.

She recovered well from her previous fright and looked back down at the paperwork she had been completing as she spoke. "This ain't exactly what I'd call a party - workin' out your expenses and shoving coco pops in me gob" she offered, as she took another spoonful in her mouth while she continued to work.

He stared at her bemusedly. "D'you eat them every morning?" He enquired, lifting the box of cereal from her desk.

"Yeah, why?"

"They're full of sugar and crap." He stared at the box in his hand to confirm his suspicion.

"They're bloody good though. And we can't all be health freaks like you. What d'you want me to eat, muesli or some bollocks like that?"

Charles laughed under his breath at her defensive tone. "Alright, I'm a boring bastard. Don't kick a man when he's already down."

"Didn't say you were a boring bastard, you've just got shit taste in breakfast."

"Fair enough" he moved round to her side of the desk and helped himself to a handful of the offenders, straight from the cereal box. "Mm, they are bloody good. I'd forgotten." He mumbled as he ate the cereal from his hand, perching himself on Molly's desk, licking a trail of powder from his finger as he murmured his approval at the taste. The vision gave her something of a flashback to the previous time her mind had contemplated Charles and a desk, and she flushed with embarrassment as she tried to push the image as far from her brain as possible. That wasn't being helped by the fact that his t-shirt was damp from sweat and clinging to his body. Somewhere deep in her subconscious she reasoned that he should really take it off. _Right now_.

She briefly allowed herself to imagine what might lie beneath that damp t-shirt. She was sure his chest would be firm and entirely muscular under there, his abs well defined. Would he have any hair on his chest? She couldn't decide, but she hoped he at least had a dusting of fine stomach hair leading a path downwards to his underwear. And that led her to other questions - was he a boxers or a briefs man? She briefly imagined running her hands over his chest to explore, dragging her nails over his skin. She licked her bottom lip involuntarily at the thought of it before catching herself.

 _Fucking hell Molly. Get a grip._

If he noticed her hot flush at his imposing presence beside her, he didn't comment, continuing to steal her cereal straight from the box, staring into the distance thoughtfully.

"I need to leave at 5 tonight, can you make sure my calendar's clear?"

She cleared her throat, trying to fill her brain with schedules rather than whether he wore briefs that showed off the muscular roundness of his arse. "Course. Got plans?" Molly's enquiry sounded innocent enough, but she suddenly berated herself for her intrusion as he grimaced.

"My bloody sister"

"Oh right. Meetin' her are you?" She tried to ignore the wave of relief that rolled through her stomach, but it swiftly became a twinge of something else entirely at his next sentence.

"Even worse. She's set me up on a date with some friend of hers. Says I need to get myself 'back in the game'. Or words to that effect" he mused as he stood, rubbing his hands together to get rid of the chocolatey powder he had built up on them.

Her heart sank but she tried to keep her tone light and playful. "Well that sounds dangerous" she reasoned with a false smile.

"Dangerous?" His eyebrows shot up as he repeated her assertion.

"Yeah, going on a date with somebody who's friends with your sister. If it goes tits up and you're a crap date, she ain't gonna be too happy with you."

His face fell. "Great. Hadn't even considered that - thanks Molly" his tone was deadpan. "Aren't you supposed to reassure me and tell me it'll be great and she'll fall at my feet?"

"It'll be great. She'll fall at your feet." Molly repeated monotonously, before giggling at his obvious annoyance.

His tone moved to outrage as he recalled her previous statement. "Anyway. Crap date? I've never been a crap date in my life! Alright, I'm a bit out of practice, but I can woo with the best of them!"

"Woo? You takin' her on a date to the 1950's?" Molly grinned and took another spoonful of breakfast to try and busy her hands and her racing brain. She needed rid of him now, before she tried to re-enact that bloody daydream of them on the desk.

His face fell at her joke. "Oh for fuck's sake, thanks for the pep talk Molly. Much appreciated." She berated herself once more for wanting to reach out and touch him in comfort. This stupid fantasy situation with him was spinning out of control, and she had to end it now.

"I'm your PA, not your relationship adviser" she replied, a little more grumpily than she had intended.

"Ok. I was actually telling you about it as a friend rather than a PA, but never mind." He trailed off, a hint of annoyance still very much apparent in his eyes. Those bloody eyes, why did he have to give her that look with his eyes that made her want to hug him?

And then take all his clothes off to console him properly.

 _For fuck's sake Molly!_

She composed herself yet again and tried to take herself back to the conversation. "Sorry. You know what I'm like in the morning. Listen, you'll be fine. You won't be a crap date, she'll think you're sodding wonderful and you'll have a lovely time. Now go and have a shower and let me finish these bloody expenses, or else you'll have no cash to wine and dine anybody."

He seemed to find some reassurance in her words and grinned widely. "Thanks. I'll make sure I'm not a crap date. Can you make me a reservation at Claridge's please?"

"Claridge's?" She looked up again from her bowl. "Blimey, you're pushing the boat out a bit ain't ya?"

"Well you've set me a challenge now. I'd better at least try and impress her. Oh, can you order me one of those big bunches of flowers too? I'll take it with me." He grabbed a change of clothes from his office and backed away towards the shower rooms. "Thanks Molly."

She didn't reply as he walked away, whistling under his breath as he moved.

"Fucking Claridge's" she muttered under her breath, willing herself for around the tenth time that day to get a grip. These inappropriate feelings for her boss would disappear soon. They had to. In the meantime, she would just ignore them.

She would definitely ignore the clenching in her stomach that told her to follow him to the row of showers in the basement of the building. She would ignore the fact that she could just edge open the door and watch as he stripped off and stepped in, washing his gorgeous, toned body under the hot streams of water. She would be able to admire his long, muscular legs as she watched him shower. Maybe he would even turn round and catch her. He'd grin and bring an outstretched arm to her, urging her to strip and join him. And she would, without a single moment of hesitation. He'd lift her up effortlessly, and hold her against the wall as he kissed her, hands exploring her body hungrily.

Somewhere at one of the desks beside Molly, a phone began to ring loudly, pulling her from her thoughts. She realised with horror that she was trembling, palms sweaty with anticipation. Goosebumps erupted over her neck and arms as she imagined him running his tongue along her collarbone.

"Aaaaaargh" she muttered into her hands as she shifted in her seat in frustration.

 _This is getting out of hand. It has to stop_.

* * *

For the remainder of the day she managed to studiously avoid him, burying herself in work and making herself look very busy indeed. If she was focusing on work, it would leave little space in her brain to formulate thoughts about him. This little crush had sneaked up on her and taken her by complete surprise. She'd always been able to see that he was a gorgeous guy, that much was obvious. But he'd always been very much off limits, and if she was honest, a good friend. He was her married boss. Now he was just her boss, but she still knew it was completely wrong for her to be having these thoughts. He'd be mortified if he ever found out. So would she, and she could guarantee he'd never once have even considered her in that way. They had a good relationship, they had banter together while still retaining enough respect for each other to feel entirely comfortable. She had to get back to that dynamic in their relationship.

Her phone rang shrilly, interrupting her train of thought. She recognised his office extension straight away and lifted the receiver.

"You could probably just shout through the door and I'd hear you."

"I need you" he uttered down the phone, obviously absorbed in whatever he was doing. She buried the way her stomach jumped with need at his words. They left her struggling to breathe.

"You there?" He queried down the phone.

"Yes" she managed to splutter into the receiver.

"Good. Bring a pen will you?"

Molly drew a deep breath and headed into his office, closing the door behind her. He sat in his leather chair, clearly immersed in whatever he was doing. His jacket hung on the chair behind him. He had loosened his tie, and his light blue shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, exposing his long, tanned forearms. Molly sighed without realising it, and he looked up from his papers.

"You got time for a quick dictation before you head home?"

She looked at her watch, ignoring the devilish voice on her shoulder that told her she had time for a very different quickie. "Don't you need to go on your date? It's almost 5."

He looked at his leather watch and cursed under his breath. "Shit, I didn't realise the time."

"Besides, I've got an important date of my own." Molly ventured, trying to occupy her whirring mind by making conversation.

"You do?" He looked up with a mixture of curiosity and something else she couldn't quite place. "Who's the lucky guy?"

"Oh, not with a fella. With a couch, a bottle of wine and a DVD. Exciting life I lead" she joked, wondering why on earth she was confessing to him how sad and boring her life was outwith the office. She shifted nervously, leaning her weight on one leg, and then the other as she stood in front of his desk.

"Sounds ideal to me" he commented as he stood up and pulled his jacket on. "Right, I suppose I'd better go and get this over with." He fixed his tie as he moved, brushing past her to grab his briefcase. She caught a whiff of his aftershave as he did it, and braced herself for the wave of attraction that pounded through her body.

He stood before her, ready to leave. "Well. Will I do?" He gestured with his hand to check whether his appearance was suitable.

Molly swallowed deeply. "You'll do. She's a lucky lady."

"Thanks Molly. Enjoy your evening." He smiled gorgeously at her before walking out of the office. He left Molly with a sinking heart and a horrible, growing suspicion that this wasn't going to be something she could try and ignore for much longer.

* * *

 **AN. Hope everybody is having a lovely bank holiday! Thank you so much to anybody who read and/or reviewed the first chapter of this story, I really appreciate it, and I'm blown away by your support. Rather than a train journey, this chapter was brought to you thanks to a child free Sunday night and half a bottle of prosecco!**

 **This story is very much just an idea that's been floating around - I'm used to having a 'plan' but with this I'm not sure where exactly it's going to go or how long it's going to be. I have to say though, I'm enjoying torturing poor Molly! I've had plenty of fun writing the first couple of chapters, and I hope that reading it brought some fun too!**

 **Now I'm off to think up some fresh torment for our poor heroine!**


	3. Chapter 3

4.47pm

The office bustled with activity as groups of increasingly anxious staff worked together to achieve all that was needed by close of business at 5pm on the Friday evening. Groups of PA's typed at breakneck speed to finalise documents, whilst an increasingly anxious Richard Yardley paced at Emily's desk, alternating between breathing down her neck to finish typing an email he was dictating and watching Charles take the fateful closing phonecall at his desk.

"Fucking hell Emily. Any chance you could speed up - this needs to go out now... No, don't bloody type that you silly girl! Oh for fuck's sake, if you need a job done properly, do it yourself."

Richard usurped her from her desk, taking over at a snail's pace of typing with only one finger, but sure that he was doing a better job than his long-suffering PA, who now stood behind the chair, rolling her eyes in Molly's direction at her pain in the arse boss, mouthing the word _'wanker_ ' over his head at Molly, who also rolled her eyes in response.

The team at Astratto had been working flat out for almost five months on a huge project to secure a visionary new development in London. Everything was in place to complete the deal, with the exception of the one final piece of bank funding that would seal the project and ensure that the company made waves in the market. This was the deal that would potentially leapfrog them into the next realm of developers, and mark them out from their competitors.

They all knew that they were sailing too close to the wind with the timing though. If there was no confirmation from the bank by 5pm that the final, and critical, piece of funding was approved, the whole thing was dead in the water. The phonecall currently taking place between Charles and the all important fund would be the final confirmation on whether they had achieved the goal they had been working towards for months, or whether the entire project was screwed. The atmosphere in the office had now become one of panic, but Charles remained one of the few who maintained the same composure he could always rely on.

Richard pressed "Send" on his email and observed as Charles sat calmly at his desk, his face a picture of utmost confidence. He spoke every so often, his brow furrowing slightly as he became more animated from time to time. The call had been ongoing for twenty minutes now, and Richard felt his stomach plummet with every further minute that it dragged on. So much for affording that bloody holiday in Mauritius. He could feel the promise of it evaporate in front of him, along with all of his other grand plans for the bonuses this deal would earn for him.

More and more people within the team were coming to the realisation that it was now make or break time, and that as soon as that phone call ended, they would know the result of all of those months of hard work. A hushed quiet began to take over from the previous bustle.

Molly remained at her desk, finding herself able to watch Charles closely for the first time in over a week without needing an excuse. The rest of the office were watching him, why shouldn't she? He was slightly reclined in his chair, right leg crossed over his body so that his ankle rested on his knee. He was betraying no clues as to how the call was going, and she couldn't hear what was being said from her desk. She watched him lean forward, both feet now on the floor and run a hand through the thick curls on his head, still talking animatedly. His pristine white shirt fitted him perfectly, sleeves rolled up as usual. The tie was long gone, having been pulled from his neck and cast aside earlier in the phonecall. Molly had already observed him silently as he did it, watching as he loosened the knot with one hand and without thinking, before undoing the top two buttons of his shirt. At the time, she had to fight back the silent urge to move towards him and straddle his lap, bringing her hand slowly to the remainder of the buttons. The tiny white row of circular buttons was begging to be freed to leave his shirt gaping open for her eyes to feast on.

She was almost getting used to the fantasies. They were becoming part of everyday life for her, and had been for weeks now. Her increasing difficulty came from the fact that she was now desperate to act upon it. Every day presented a new challenge where she had to stop and remind herself that this was only a meaningless crush; that there were no serious feelings involved beyond a physical attraction on her part. He certainly didn't return those feelings, and in any case, she would move past it soon. She just had to get out a bit more; meet somebody else, in order to ease the tension she was feeling. She hadn't been with anybody in what felt like forever.

 _That's all it is. A stupid crush and a dry spell. I'll get over it soon._

As she continued to reassure herself, she watched as Charles suddenly stood from his chair, still on the all-important call. He had worked so hard for this deal that she found herself hoping for his sake rather than anybody else's that it all came together. He stretched as he stood, raising his hand up and behind him to ease a crick in his neck. He turned his back to her to face the large expanse of glass at the window of his office. She continued to watch, fascinated, as he rubbed his neck in a deep, circular motion, easing some of the tension, his hand disappearing under the neck of his shirt as he did it. His broad shoulders filled the material as he stretched again and moved.

It didn't take long before her gaze travelled downwards to take in the fit of his dark trousers; the expensive material and cut of the suit trousers apparent even to Molly. She knew he got his clothes from the likes of Savile Row, whilst she struggled at the end of the month to afford Topshop, never mind the exclusive places he was used to. The cut of his skinny trousers emphasised the leanness of his body and allowed her to admire the muscular tightness of his backside and thighs. They sat just low enough to emphasise his narrow hips and waist, his torso without a doubt toned and fit. Her stomach curled in a knot of frustration with herself, her cheeks softly flushing with a combination of excitement and embarrassment. He continued to rub his neck under the collar of his shirt, and she wondered what those long fingers might feel like if they were massaging her body instead.

She was willing to bet that they would be slow and firm, sinking into her flesh skilfully to ease all of the tension from her aching shoulders. Her eyes fluttered for a second at the mental image of him approaching her from behind as she sat at her desk, saying nothing as he swept her long hair to the side and rubbed her neck and shoulders. That wouldn't be enough though, and he would soon crouch down on his knees beside her to drop a series of kisses onto her neck and shoulders, lifting and then dropping the straps of her top and bra over her shoulders to leave the skin bare so that he could cover the whole area with his kisses.

As she lost herself in the daydream, Charles suddenly looked up from his deep concentration, glancing in Molly's direction as he continued to speak, and catching her staring at him. She immediately flushed with embarrassment and went to look away, but before she could, Charles grinned widely, a full megawatt smile.

Her heart soared as she met his gaze. She knew she was smiling back, just as widely, although she had no idea why. His sudden happiness was infectious, and she enjoyed it as much as she could, ignoring the warning voice that asked her why he made her so happy with just a smile. She was so caught up that she failed to realise he had ended the call. He strode out of his office and towards her desk and she could have sworn that she felt like the only person on earth besides him. Was this her imagination, or was her fantasy finally becoming a reality? He continued to stride towards her with a beaming smile that lit his whole face up. Her heart beat ten to the dozen in her chest, she could almost feel the blood pound around her body. His steps were determined and resolute. Anticipation pooled in her stomach the closer he came to her.

She was brought back down to earth with a crashing thud when it all became clear. He was brandishing his phone in the air.

He wasn't smiling because he had caught her staring at him.

The call was over.

Crowds of colleagues were beginning to assemble in the space outside his office as he continued to make his way out, still grinning from ear to ear. He was no longer looking at Molly, but at the entirety of the assembled crowd.

"It's a deal!" he announced happily, to an audience of relieved cheering and assorted congratulations.

Molly sank into her chair, feeling only a sinking sense of unease, and willing her racing heart to recover from her near miss. This was now becoming all too real, and she cursed herself for succumbing to any feelings whatsoever. She felt tears hit the back of her eyes as she cursed her own stupidity.

* * *

Later that evening, when the team had all decamped to the nearest bar to continue the celebrations, Molly began to feel her mood lift in direct proportion to the amount of champagne glasses which were thrust into her hand. They had travelled straight to the bar from the office with no stops for any food on the way there. The combination of an empty stomach and the numerous glasses of fizz were going straight to Molly's head, and she grinned as Charles made his way towards her, pushing his way through the crowds of Friday night revellers who were now crashing into the bar from the surrounding offices. The music wasn't too loud, but just enough to drown out the edges of conversation. She wasn't surprised when he placed a hand on her elbow to bring her closer as he spoke. She was however, taken by surprise by the way her breath caught in her chest at the brief moment of contact. She looked up at him as he spoke into her ear to try and block out the surrounding noise. Although she was wearing heels, a large height difference remained, and he lowered his head towards her as he spoke.

"I've hardly seen you all evening."

"I know, why d'you think I'm havin' such a good time?"

"I'll just go and sit over there by myself then, shall I?" He gestured towards two empty seats with his head whilst pulling a face of childish disappointment at her, when she giggled lightly.

"Suppose I can spare you a minute of my time. I'm really quite in demand you know?"

"Really?" he swallowed from the bottle of beer in his hand. His fingers were wrapped around the neck of the bottle and Molly bit back a shudder at the sudden closeness between them. "Who's taking up your time?" he murmured.

She swallowed and pulled back as far as she could, knowing that she needed to try and create some distance, but realising it was impossible in the packed bar. "My boss" she grinned again. "He's a right old pain in the arse. Needs constant lookin' after."

"He sounds pathetic" Charles grinned before taking another mouthful of beer. "You should definitely come and sit with me instead. If I have to sit and listen to one more bloody word about Richard's holiday to Mauritius, I'll personally go back to the office and kill the deal myself." As the bar grew even busier, and the crowds surged around them, she felt herself having to move closer and closer again to him to hear what he was saying.

So much for distance.

She could feel the warmth of his body pressed against her and his breath on her cheek as they continued to chat and laugh together. The warm buzz from the alcohol surged through her and left her feeling gloriously contented. The buzz only intensified when Charles became protective of her in the face of the large crowds of people and placed a hand on the small of her back to guide her towards the empty space at the table where their colleagues sat. They sat side by side at the bench, Molly trying to edge away when she realised that her leg was pressed against his given the lack of space at the table. He didn't seem to register the closeness, and fiddled with the bottle of beer in his hands, looking to the side and rolling his eyes at her as Richard regaled yet another tale about his father in law's yacht.

"You don't seem too happy for a man who's just sealed a multi million pound deal" she remarked, noticing his somewhat hunched posture.

"I thought I would" he continued to fiddle with the bottle as he spoke, running his index finger around the narrow tip of the bottle as he watched it. Suddenly he looked up at Molly and for some reason felt like he could confess his true feelings. "I used to live for this."

"The job?"

"The high. Working towards something for months and then seeing it all come together. The rush that came from knowing you were bringing a team together and actually achieving something. It used to be what kept me going." He stared into the distance, looking troubled.

"And now?" she urged, emboldened by his rare moment of introspection.

"I don't know. I still love it. It's just-" he paused, trying to find the right words "-I don't get the same thrill out of it anymore." He looked at her with something resembling uncertainty in his eyes. "I don't want to be one of those guys who wakes up at 50 with no life beyond his career. I'm heading that way."

He was usually so determined, so in control, that this vulnerable side of him was highly unusual to see. She felt his leg continue to press against hers under the table, and tried not to let it distract her from the conversation. She found she wanted to know this stuff; she wanted to know what made him happy and sad. Still, it was difficult not to let her mind wander to the fact that all she had to do was move his hand a few inches before it would be resting on her thigh, hidden from view under the table. She could feel the area in question almost tingle, her brain urging him to make just that move. If he did it, he would be hidden from view. He could place a hand on her lap and slowly edge it up and under her skirt. They would be entirely shielded by the table, nobody would be able to tell what was going on. She had to actively hold back a moan in her throat at the thought. She felt her nipples stiffen with excitement at his proximity to her and the potential of what he could do, and silently thanked god that she had opted for a padded bra which would disguise her excitement. He was so close that she was worried he would be able to feel the heat radiate from her as she pondered it.

He watched her struggle what to say before smirking and whispering in her ear. "Not like you to be lost for words. I bet I know what you're thinking."

Her cheeks twinged red at almost being caught out for the second time that day. "No you don't." She muttered defensively, mortified that he might even have had the slightest idea of what she was thinking.

"You've had too much to drink, Miss Dawes. You only ever blush when you're drunk."

"Dunno what you're on about." She hoped her voice sounder more steady than it felt.

His nose wrinkled with amusement as he grinned. "How about that time in Milan where you got pissed on limoncello at the annual gathering and I had to carry you back to the hotel over my shoulder? I seem to remember similar behaviour back then. You're lucky I was the gentleman who escorted your sorry arse home."

"I didn't know it was alcoholic did I, they kept handing it out like water. Anyway, you shouldn't have bothered. I'd have been fine with all those Italian fellas. They were all fit over there." She held back a hiccup as she sipped some more champagne despite a warning deep down in her brain not to do it.

"I bet you would. Anyway, stop trying to distract me. I know what you were thinking about there."

"Trust me, you've no idea what I was thinking about. You'd be horrified." She dared to look up at him again; his mood seemed to have improved as he continued to tease her.

"Really? That sounds way more interesting than what I thought. Care to enlighten me?"

"Not really"

"Go on." He moved closer to her. Was she imagining how close he was? She could still feel his finely tailored suit trousers pressing against her bare leg. She was struggling to breathe evenly, never mind hold a conversation.

 _Shit, I really need to stop drinking now._

The entirely masochistic side of her reminded her that he really shouldn't be flirting with her like this right now. It wasn't fair. They'd both had a fair amount to drink, but she retained enough sense in her brain to recall the very reason she had felt so out of place for the last week.

"How's Alice?"

"Alice?"

"Yep. Claridge's girl" Molly feigned a smile, hoping he couldn't see right through her.

He sighed, and imperceptibly shrunk back. She could see the change of gear in his body language as he blew out a small breath. "She's fine, I think. We've got another date tomorrow. Why d'you ask?"

"Just wondered if you were still seein' her, that's all."

"I wouldn't exactly call it a relationship, I've taken her out twice." His tone was defensive, and she could feel tension suddenly begin to radiate from him.

"And you're takin' her out again tomorrow." Molly added, not quite sure why she was pursuing this, but knowing that she needed to keep reminding herself exactly why it was a bad idea to be this close to him. Remembering that he wasn't with her; that he wouldn't ever be with her, was a good way of doing that.

"Mmm" he commented noncommittally as he took another mouthful of beer. She could tell she'd crossed a line somewhere in the conversation, and felt herself desperate to get back to the easy banter they usually shared. Before she could rack her brain to think of something else to say, she heard a voice from a few yards away calling his name. She looked up and made out the tall, blonde figure making her way towards Charles with a huge smile on her face. She was beautiful, long limbs stretching up endlessly. She didn't seem to need to fight her way through the crowds, they parted to let her through as she slid effortlessly towards him. He tensed beside Molly and suddenly stood to greet the tall figure.

Molly watched the somewhat awkward embrace between them and the way she beamed when he kissed her cheek, and knew who it was without even asking.

"Fancy meeting you here!" The woman beamed as she placed a possessive hand on his chest, leaving Molly in no doubt that it wasn't an accident at all.

"Small world" Charles commented with a wry smile, looking as though he shared the exact same suspicion as Molly. He turned towards the table, aiming his head towards the waiting group who were curiously watching Charles interact with this woman. Emily's eyebrows raised skywards as she peered at them and mouthed "who's that?" at Molly, who simply shrugged her shoulders in response.

Charles interrupted her as he swept his companion towards the table, a hand on her waist. "Alice, this is Molly, my PA. Molly, this is Alice."

"Lovely to meet you" Molly lied through her teeth as she waved at her from her place at the table.

"Take my seat" Charles gestured to his now vacant spot beside Molly, ever the gentleman. Alice declined, opting to stand close to Charles rather than sit beside Molly.

Molly could see the way his hand remained resting around her waist, and was hit with the shattering realisation that her feelings weren't just a stupid crush. If it was just a crush then she wouldn't be fighting back the waves of intense jealousy and horror coursing through her veins at the way his fingers were resting on the skin between Alice's skinny jeans and the hem of her top, stroking softly, and the way she was whispering something quietly in his ear, causing him to grin. For the second time that day, she felt tears prick the back of her eyes as she realised that not only did she have feelings for her boss that she couldn't forget about, but that he would never share the same feelings. She felt herself sober up incredibly quickly.

"It's alright" she indicated to the pair as she stood, grabbing her coat and bag. "Both of you sit down. I need to get goin' anyway. Not feelin' too good all of a sudden" she muttered as she pulled her jacket on.

She gathered herself before Charles could say a word, determined that she wouldn't cry in front of him. The crowds didn't part for her the way they had for Alice, and she fought through them, hearing Charles call her name behind her, but not daring to look back and let him see the tears that had begun to fall from her face. Finally, she made it to the door, and out into the fresh air.

She leaned against the damp brick exterior of the pub and gulped down the fresh air as hot, salty tears coursed down her cheeks, feeling alone and utterly miserable.

 _What the hell do I do now?_

* * *

 _ **AN. Thanks so much for the lovely comments and to all who have read this story so far, I'm so glad that most people seem to be enjoying it given that it's very AU. I know this wasn't a great chapter for poor Molly, but next time we might just see Charles get a glimpse of what life is like without her...**_


	4. Chapter 4

3pm

"You need to get back here Molls" Emily's panicked voice almost jumped down the phone handset at the beginning of the second phonecall between the women that day.

"Would you calm down? It's fine." Molly sighed down the phone at the sound of the tension in Emily's voice, knowing she was the cause of it. "Just go into the master calendar and drag all the board meetings into his schedule. He ain't gonna bite if you get it wrong."

"I dunno about that, he's been a nightmare all week." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "I've never seen him lose his temper till now. Poor Brenda's temping at your desk today and she just got an earful for it."

Molly frowned. It wasn't like him to behave like that. "Why?"

"The main reason seems to be that she ain't you. If I hear the words 'that's not the way Molly does it' one more time, I swear to god I'll.."

"Emily. Who are you speaking to?"

Molly gasped as she heard Charles' enquiring tone question Emily from beside the desk. Before there was any chance for her stressed colleague to respond to the query, Molly took the lead and interjected.

"I need to go Em, I'm meant to have the doctor phonin' me back, I need to keep the line free. Good luck." She rushed the words out before she hung the phone up with a hurry.

Molly hung her head back on the couch in relief at her close escape. She knew she was going to have to speak to him eventually, but she still wasn't ready. It had been easy enough on Monday; she had called in sick to the PA co-ordinator and sent Charles an email to say she was too unwell to come to work. But this was Wednesday, and she still hadn't spoken to him beyond a couple of text messages. He had called her mobile a few times, but Molly had found herself unable to answer, telling herself that she would call him back eventually.

Just not yet.

Dodging him had seemed like a good idea at the time, but it was building up into something that didn't feel right at all. Friday night had admittedly been a complete disaster, and when she left everybody at the pub, she made her way home and drank herself senseless at the prize prat she'd made of herself. She'd made it so obvious that she was upset when confronted by the sight of him and Alice. At that point, she'd promised herself that she wouldn't have to come into the office this week and face him. Unfortunately, that decision left her with an awful lot of thinking time; something she wasn't savouring right now.

Given time to reflect, she knew now that she'd been kidding herself when it came to Charles. She had told herself countless times since the whole thing started that she had only latched on to him as a result of boredom and frustration. She had been convinced that it could have been anybody she had a crush on; that it was totally meaningless. If that was the case, she wouldn't find herself increasingly emotional about the whole situation. She thought about him often, not just wondering how he was, but increasingly missing his presence in her life. She could admit to herself now that this had been building for far longer than a few weeks. They had been friends for as long as she had worked for him, and she had allowed herself to disguise the emotional connection she felt for him as a good working relationship for a long time. Now that the connection had progressed into a developed sexual longing for him, she couldn't deny it.

The part that was killing her was that it was painfully obvious he didn't feel the same way. She knew she was going to have to face up to it in some way, but so far her only solution had been to hand in her resignation and cut her ties with him completely. She wasn't sure she had the balls to do that. So instead, she sat in her halfway house, calling in sick and staying home moping.

* * *

"Emily, I asked a question. Who are you talking to?" Charles leaned over her desk, indicating that he wanted to be handed the receiver. If Emily hadn't been so flustered by his sudden appearance at her desk, she would have been enjoying the sight very much indeed. His tone was smooth but forceful, and she felt herself torn between admitting that she had been relying on Molly's phone calls for pointers on how to handle him, or flat out lying. She hurriedly opted for the truth, but with very little detail.

"It was Molly, but she's gone now."

"How did she sound?" He asked with genuine curiosity. When he saw Emily's cheeks flush and her eyebrows raise skywards, it immediately confirmed his fledgling suspicion that Molly wasn't in fact ill; she just wasn't coming to work. Nevertheless, Emily steeled herself and tried her best to cover.

"She didn't sound too great, she's waiting on the doctor calling her back."

"Whatever you say." His response sounded sharper than he intended, and he walked away, a hand pulled roughly through his hair as he headed towards his office. Before he reached the door he called back to Emily. "I don't want to be disturbed for the rest of the afternoon. Hold my calls."

Emily nodded and kept her head down, unwilling to provoke his bad mood any further. He sighed at her obvious reluctance to address him; if it was Molly, she would have had him on his arse with some type of witty retort by now on account of his shitty behaviour. Instead, Emily looked vaguely like she might cry, and he felt the guilt assault him as he slammed his office door behind him with frustration.

* * *

7.15pm

Disturbed by the sound of the doorbell, which was followed by a sharp knock, Molly's bare feet padded down the hallway of her flat. As she swung the heavy door open, she stepped back in shock as she caught sight of Charles, waiting impatiently for her. He had obviously come straight from the office, still in his best suit and tie, and weighed down by a bulging paper bag in his arms. Her heart raced at the sight of him looking uncertainly at her, and she urged her brain to engage and say something sensible.

She could think of nothing. The only thing she wanted to do was kiss him until he dropped the bag on the floor and swept her into his arms instead.

 _Shit_.

"What you doin' here?" she managed to at least venture some words in his direction at the sight of him at her front door. A stray curl had escaped from the rest of his hair onto his forehead, and it took all of the willpower she possessed not to raise her hand up and brush it from his face. Once she did that, she knew she would have to run both of her hands through his hair. It was one of many secret fantasies she harboured. She was brought back to earth as he finally responded to her question.

"Checking on you." He smiled sheepishly at her curious gaze on the bag in his arms. "I brought food."

"So I see." She continued to watch him warily as he stood waiting for her to at least respond. He used the full extent of his charm as he searched her with his eyes. "This is usually the part where I get invited in", he supplied with a cheeky grin.

She eyed him warily, desperate to beam at the playfulness in his tone, but not trusting herself. "D'you make a habit of turning up at people's doors uninvited then?"

Charles winced playfully at the jab. "Knew I missed you for a reason. I need my daily dose of being taken down a peg or two" he confirmed quietly. She could see from his amused eyes that he wasn't annoyed at her response.

Molly didn't say a word in response; she doubted she was capable. She simply moved to the side to lean back against the front door and let him pass. She silently thanked whatever god was above her for the fact she had taken a shower and put some clean clothes on just before he turned up. Her hair was still slightly damp and had formed into wavy curls, nothing like her usual straightened style, and she only wore leggings and a top, but it was miles better than the unwashed hair, ratty dressing gown and pyjamas she had been wallowing in for 3 days.

He moved past her and had the good fortune to turn into the small kitchen on the first attempt, rather than the desperately untidy bedroom one door down. She waited at the entrance to the kitchen, watching him curiously as he put the bags he was carrying on the countertop, then removed his jacket. The kitchen was reasonably long but narrow, and couldn't comfortably take two people in its width. He moved back to stand before her, gripping her shoulders to move her slightly to the side so that he could hang his jacket on the door handle. She dutifully ignored the rush of adrenaline she felt when his hands made contact with her body, and he seemed glaringly unaffected.

If Molly wasn't seeing this with her own eyes, she wouldn't have believed it. He wandered around the kitchen like it was his own, pulling several containers of takeaway food out of the paper bag and placing them in a row on the worktop. Not a word had been said since they entered the kitchen, although she watched him very carefully. He was entirely confident, no hint of self-consciousness as he acted as though he belonged there. He approached her with a carton of noodles and a plastic fork.

"Got your favourite" he looked at her, and for the first time she traced the uncertainty in his eyes. He held the food out as though it was a peace offering, then continued when she didn't respond "I even went through the embarrassment of getting you a fork since you're a nightmare with chopsticks."

The memory of the last time they ate together, and the subsequent lively debate on the merits of chopsticks made her smile, despite herself. She had spent a late night in the office helping him with paperwork, when he offered to order some food from a local Chinese takeaway. It was the same one he had been to tonight. The food that time came supplied with chopsticks, and he had been genuinely entertained by her reluctance to use them. They had eaten at opposite sides of his desk and laughed heartily as they worked.

"It ain't right eatin' with chopsticks, they give me the willies." Her body shuddered and she pretended it was for that simple reason and not his proximity to her.

"I know, I remember" he murmured with amusement as he continued to hold out the container. She reluctantly took it from him and waited as he pulled his own meal from the tray, together with another couple of boxes. She led him across the hallway to the tiny box room, where she had managed to squeeze a couch and a TV, together with a couple of small storage tables. For a moment she was embarrassed about her tiny flat when he was probably used to much more sophisticated surroundings, but he gave the impression that he didn't particularly care.

They sat on the couch, Molly forcing herself to concentrate on the food on her lap rather than looking to the side and meeting his gaze. She had to keep her feelings under control. His closeness to her on the small 2 seater couch wasn't helping with that. She watched secretly from the corner of her eye as he wrapped his chopsticks around the noodles and placed them in his mouth, licking a stray piece from the side of his lips, and murmuring in wholehearted approval at the taste. Molly thought it might just have been the most erotic noise she had ever heard him make, and shifted uncomfortably where she sat. He cleared his throat awkwardly, after taking another couple of mouthfuls.

"How are you feeling?"

She took a deep breath to try and calm her racing heart. Her next admission was entirely truthful.

"Not great."

He nodded slowly as he continued to eat. "If you don't come back soon, I think I'm in danger of Emily tampering with my coffee when she makes it." He looked down, ashamed of himself when admitting it. "I've been a bit of a dick without you there."

"You should be nice to her, she already gets enough shit from Richard." Molly continued to pick at her food as she looked straight ahead, desperate to avoid his eyes or the sight of him eating so enthusiastically. She found it was turning her on to the point that she couldn't think straight, and she tried to extinguish the fire she felt in her lower abdomen.

Charles sighed deeply, and shifted on the couch so that his back faced the armrest, conscious that she was studiously avoiding him. He faced Molly's side and tried to make eye contact.

"Have I done something to piss you off?"

"What makes you say that?" Her tone was defensive, and his eyebrows raised in surprise that she was even asking the question. It was obvious enough to him.

"The fact that you're pissed off." He stated it in a matter of fact tone that pissed her off even more.

"I'm not pissed off" she muttered quietly.

"Molly-" he placed his food down on the table with a frustrated sigh. "-I've known you for nearly two years. I know you well enough to know that something's bothering you. I'm asking you if it's something I've done."

She found the courage to look at him and reply with a partial truth. "It's nothing you've done" she hesitated, failing to add that it was entirely due to things he _hadn't_ done, and the way he _didn't_ feel. She couldn't find a way to vocalise that without humiliating herself, and so didn't say anything more in response.

He stared at the television screen, trying to pass off his next question as a barely considered one, rather than the nagging worry which was now beginning to scream at him.

"Molly? You are coming back, aren't you?" His tone was uncertain, and she suddenly worried that he had seen right through her. She forced herself to look at him, seeing for the first time the tiredness that seemed to have settled over him. It was another hint of the vulnerable side that she was seeing far more frequently these days, and she felt a flicker of a flame of desire burn yet again in her stomach as he volunteered this usually hidden side of himself up to her. He had put himself out there, and she smiled gratefully at him for letting himself be less than 100% in control like he usually tried to be. She placed a hand lightly over his where it sat on the couch between their bodies, and instantly regretted it. The feel of his skin burned her palm, and she longed to stroke it and intertwine their fingers. She held her breath, not daring to move. She could only whisper a response.

"Course I am."

His intense gaze continued, the TV long forgotten. He suddenly stared at her hand resting on top of his and whispered, low and with a husk in his voice.

"When?"

She felt her cheeks burn at the intensity of his gaze on their hands. She lifted her hand suddenly, willing herself not to get any closer. "When it passes" she murmured softly, willing her face not to betray her. She delivered her best unaffected smile, knowing it didn't quite meet her eyes.

He continued to push her, and she found herself wondering for the first time whether he knew her better than she thought he did. "When what passes?"

She sighed, and held his gaze.

"Whatever I've got."

A heavy silence pounded between them for an extended moment. The only noise in the room was the muted tone of the TV, and she found herself trying to decipher his face through the low blue light coming from it. The rest of the room had fallen into darkness, and the low light of the television provided the only hint of brightness. It felt like he had moved closer to her, but she wasn't sure when it had happened. After a moment where she was sure she saw something flash across his face, he hesitated and looked carefully at her. She suddenly panicked that he had seen right through her and that he possibly felt the need to spell out to her that nothing would ever happen between them. In her panic, she broke the moment between them, reaching beside her to switch on the lamp at her side. With the brighter light now flooding the small room, the atmosphere switched and she saw his sharp intake of breath, followed by his usual controlled face suddenly switching on. He could have been in a boardroom, suddenly playing his poker face. Despite the sudden increase in light, she found herself utterly unable to read him.

He broke the silence with an attempt to regain some normality instead of the lingering hint of awkwardness.

"I hope it's not too bloody long in passing. I'm not a fully functioning member of the rat race without you to keep me company. And Emily just isn't the same."

Molly sighed as the sense of hope that they were about to have a real conversation slipped away. "I meant what I said earlier. Be nice to her. She's good at her job, she don't need you being a shit to her."

"She's not you" he stated simply. Molly felt her stomach leap at the endorsement, and then suddenly felt resentful of the rollercoaster of emotions that he was continuing to subject her to, whether he was aware of it or not.

"Lucky her" she muttered, looking down at her food.

They continued to eat and chat a little after that. Normality was somewhat resumed, but there was a quiet acknowledgement that there was still an unbearable tension between them. Unfortunately, neither had the first clue of how to resolve it.

Later that night, when they had said their awkward goodbyes and the door closed behind him, Molly went to bed with a heavy heart. She replayed the conversation countless times in her head, fantasising that instead of the strained atmosphere, she had done what she really wanted to; and leaned forward to kiss him instead of switching that stupid bloody lamp on.

As the images took root in her brain, she took them even further, giving in to the same temptation that had already presented itself to her on many lonely nights over the last few weeks. After her fantasy reached its shuddering climax, she caught a sob in the back of her throat and promised herself it would be the last time she allowed herself to do this. She was only hurting herself, and the problem wasn't going to pass unless she forced it to.

She knew it would be nigh on impossible, but she would try and forget how she felt. It was either that or cut all contact with him completely; something which she wasn't ready to do. She just hoped with all of her heart that she could manage it.

* * *

 **AN. Thanks to everyone who has commented / read. You are all absolutely brilliant. And don't worry, Molly won't be miserable forever! Hope you enjoy!**


	5. Chapter 5

7.30am

As his feet pounded the pavements, Charles found that his time for switching off and forgetting about everything except putting one foot in front of the other was being encroached upon. _Yet again_.

He couldn't quite shake the image that had been making its way into his consciousness for the last week or so, despite the fact that he kept telling himself it was faintly ridiculous.

Correction. That _he_ was faintly ridiculous, and in danger of becoming the type of man he despised. The faster he sprinted, the worse it became. He felt the blood pound through his body, his heart shuddering as he pushed himself to run as hard and fast as he could possibly go. The dryness in his mouth increased and he pushed and pushed until he felt like he might pass out. Still, the lingering image remained.

 _This is all Richard's bloody fault._

He cast his mind back to the day in question. The day he had sealed the deal on the conclusion of the project they had all been working on for months. He was unusually pent up about the whole process, his normally calm demeanour in danger of being cast aside to be replaced by the very real panic that he might not be able to do it this time. That the faith of each one of the team members counting on him may have been misplaced. It was whilst he mused over this that he noticed Richard lingering outside of his office, his eyes placed firmly on something just outside of the door. Charles walked towards the entrance and leaned against the frame, standing beside him whilst Richard continued to fix his gaze firmly elsewhere.

Charles cleared his throat deliberately loudly. "Are you planning on coming in, or are you setting up camp out here?"

Richard was unaffected by Charles' presence, his gaze still fixed elsewhere. "Sorry. I'm too busy enjoying the view – you're a lucky bastard Charles, you really are."

Charles let his gaze follow that of the other man. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Your PA" Richard whispered lasciviously as he inclined his head to the side, towards a sight which didn't immediately strike Charles as odd. Molly had simply bent over to pull a file from one of the low cabinets beside her desk. She was rooting around the metal structure, clearly trying to find something and failing.

Suddenly, Charles understood perfectly. Her skirt wasn't short, but it was tight, and showed off the contours of her body perfectly. It immediately struck him just why Richard was grinning so widely. Charles pulled him by the arm into his office with a start, slamming the door behind them, and taking the older man by surprise at his speed and strength.

"Firstly, ' _my PA_ ' has a name. I suggest you learn it.-" He could see the faintest tinge of pink on the other man's cheeks, but he didn't look nearly embarrassed enough in Charles' opinion. "-Secondly, I don't know what the fuck you think you're playing at, but you don't ever discuss her in those terms again. Understood?"

The pinkness in Richard's cheeks was increasing, but he shook his head vehemently at the suggestion he'd done anything wrong. "Oh fuck off Charles, we're all adults. A little window shopping never harmed anybody."

His eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Did you walk in here from the 1970's? There's a little thing called sexual harassment, Richard."

"Oh come on! I didn't say a word to her." He held his hands up in an expression of innocence. "You can't blame a man for appreciating a fine arse when he sees one."

Charles sighed with frustration and contemplated the mountain of paperwork on his desk, opting not to continue the conversation for another minute. "Unless you're here for a genuine reason, one that goes beyond ogling ' _Molly_ '" he enunciated her name carefully to suggest to Richard that he used it "-can I suggest that you fuck right off to somewhere I don't have to listen to you."

Richard took the hint and departed, but not before casting a whispered final comment in Charles' direction.

"You'd have to be blind not to appreciate that body..." he muttered as he made his way from the office.

"OUT!" Charles bellowed as Richard made his departure.

When he left, Charles shook his head in sheer disbelief at the gall of the man. He had no doubt that Molly could take care of herself, and would no doubt reduce Richard to a shell if she had ever realised the terms in which he was thinking, and talking, about her. He brushed the incident from his mind and barely considered it from that point, his mind increasingly diverted to the all important afternoon of phone calls and negotiations.

That was, until later the same day, in the bar they had all gathered in to celebrate. He found himself noticing Molly from a distance as he recalled the conversation with Richard. Her beaming smile was on display as she chatted with Emily at the bar. She had changed her hair that day from the bun that she usually wore in the office, and brushed it out so that her thick brown hair cascaded around her shoulders. She still wore the knee length pencil skirt that had been the topic of such heated conversation between himself and Richard when he reprimanded him earlier in the day. The beers Charles had already drunk that evening afforded him the opportunity to set aside his better judgement and the alarm bells ringing in his head for a couple of seconds and look at exactly what had been pointed out to him. He knew it was wrong, and that Molly would be mortified if she ever got wind of it, but he couldn't help but look curiously, for just a second.

She now stood, elbows on the bar as she ordered a drink, leaning forward slightly to engage with the barmaid behind the packed, noisy bar. Due to her lack of height she was on her tiptoes, even in heels, and for a fleeting second her skirt bunched a little around her waist, tightening in all of the right places.

He felt a little flicker of recognition fly through his body as he watched. Almost instantaneously, he realised what he was doing, and tried to force himself to look away. He couldn't do it.

 _Jesus Christ. I'm a midlife crisis waiting to happen._

His eyes swept up briefly to brush over the rest of her body. He hadn't ever really noticed what was so glaringly in front of him before. Now, he couldn't stop his eyes from drinking in the sight. She had removed her cardigan in the warm bar. It left behind only a sleeveless black blouse tucked into her high waisted skirt. It highlighted her small waist and pert bum. She didn't have an athletic body, it was curved, and looked soft and welcoming in all of the right places. Her shoulders were bare, although mostly covered by her thick hair. A sudden, not entirely unwelcome image presented itself to him; of him approaching her from behind where she currently stood at the bar, and pressing his body into hers, to feel the soft contours of her curves against his body as she stood with her back to him. He felt his heart suddenly race the way it only did towards the end of his morning run, his palms sweaty as the notion took hold of him that he could do just that. He could lean forward and place his palms flat on the bar, burying his face in her hair as she leaned back and rested her weight against him, grinding her backside into him, and forcing their bodies even closer together.

 _Fucking hell Charles. Where did that come from?_

He shook his head at his own sudden ridiculousness, willing the rest of his body to catch on to that fact and get a grip. The faint sense that this was not only sleazy, but entirely not his style took hold of his consciousness, and he pushed the brief temptation from his mind.

He knew for a fact that Molly was more than ten years younger than him; she took the piss out of him for being an old man often enough. She had turned 25 on her last birthday, Charles finally persuading her to tell him what age she was when she had confessed that she felt incredibly old. He guffawed at that and told her to come and find him when she turned 36 like him; then she would know what old felt like. At least she still had a chance of getting to her mid 30's with a family to speak of - all he had was a divorce, a deeply unsatisfactory work / life balance, and now a sleazy fascination with his PA. Not to mention the prospect of a date the next night that left him feeling distinctly underwhelmed.

 _What a prize prick you are, Charles James._

Things didn't improve much for him as the night wore on. He managed to convince himself for a moment that he was seeking her out for company because he had barely seen her that day; that he would demonstrate to himself that he could hold a conversation with her without being a sleazy bastard and picturing that image of them both together yet again. Only now he had an added problem with the fantasy. It had layers that his subconscious had added; images of his hands travelling to her hips and holding her in place while she continued to grind her body slowly against his in time with the beat of the loud music in the bar, forcing his body to press against her backside insistently.

Unfortunately these additional layers made themselves known to him as he sat beside her, knowing that their legs were touching, and refusing to back away. She didn't offer any resistance, so he let it continue, distracting her by arguing the toss about how she acted when she was drunk. It had reminded him of the night he carried her back to their hotel in Milan over his shoulder. At the time he'd thought nothing of it, laughing to himself about the absurdity of the whole thing, but when he'd relayed the tale back to Rebecca, she'd been less than impressed.

 _"You carried her? Why the hell would you carry your PA, Charles?"_

 _"She was drunk, and I was making sure she got back to the hotel in one piece. You'd prefer if I left her to her own devices, pissed and alone in a foreign country?"_

 _"Yes I would, actually, Charles. How do you think that makes me look, having a husband who's known for being a little too 'hands-on' with his PA?! It's humiliating."_

 _"Oh for Christ's sake Rebecca, don't be so ridiculous. You really think I'd stoop that low?"_

 _"I've seen the way you two are with each other. I don't like it. You spend more time with her than anybody else after all. Maybe it's not the office you're so committed to. Maybe it's her."_

The conversation had degenerated into yet another shouting match and subsequent angry silence after that, and it was yet another instance where it was entirely clear to him that his marriage was dead in the water.

As he remembered the argument, he was brought back to reality by Molly reminding him of the fact that he was meant to be seeing Alice the next day. For a second he'd actually had to do a double take when she mentioned the name. _Alice who?_ seemed a moronic question in the circumstances, and he'd suddenly realised what an absolute dick she must think he was; sitting openly flirting in a bar with her whilst she reminded him of the woman he had made her organise a date with on his behalf only the previous week. He cringed as he recalled the fact that Molly had booked the table, ordered the ostentatious bunch of flowers and packed him off on his way. And yet here he was, a week later, fantasising about lowering his hands to inch her skirt up her legs and sinking his fingers into her thighs.

 _Oh holy fuck, where did that part come from?_

Molly had continued to question him about Alice, and he felt himself tense with every probe. Was he really so transparent that she felt such a glaring need to point out to him that what he was doing was inappropriate? He realised that he must have crossed a line with his behaviour when she stiffened beside him, and he suddenly found himself hating the way he was acting.

 _'You're turning into your bastard of a father'._ He heard his mother's voice warn him insistently.

Richard James had been wildly successful in the business world, but less so in his family life. He'd walked out on his wife when Charles was 14, leaving her to raise Charles and his little sister alone; reliant on the kindness of friends and family to ensure they kept a roof over their head and food on the table. All whilst his father wined and dined a succession of women, ultimately shacking up with none other than his secretary. He was the walking embodiment of a mid-life fuck up, and Charles despised him for it. Yet here he was, allowing history to repeat itself and dribbling over his PA like a sad, cliched, old man.

Only this was different. Molly was different. She was more than a colleague; he considered her to be a friend. They were a team, and he dreaded to even think what he would do without her. Which only made these sudden thoughts even more inappropriate.

 _She'd hand you your arse on a plate if she knew for one second what you'd been thinking about tonight._

The thought resonated with him as he saw none other than Alice make her way towards him through the crowds of people in the bar. _Just when this night couldn't get any weirder._ She made up some bullshit excuse about just running into him, which he pretended to buy into with a nod of his head. From a sideways glance at the table, he could feel his colleagues watching curiously, and realised that he was entirely up shit creek with this situation.

He made what he now realised was a fundamentally stupid decision, and played along with the physical show of affection that Alice had initiated, holding her close to him as they spoke. He had to try and block this sudden sleazy preoccupation with Molly from his brain, and if this was the way to do it, then so be it. He just hoped it was enough to demonstrate to Molly that he wasn't an absolute tosser, and that he hadn't actually been tempted to cast his inhibitions away and try and seduce her so very inappropriately. Molly must have got that message indeed, as she swept her way out of the bar shortly thereafter, and he heaved a silent sigh of relief that she hadn't called him out for his awful behaviour.

He thought he had gotten away with it. That was, until Monday morning when he arrived in the office faced with Molly's empty desk. For a brief moment he panicked that something had happened to her, until he checked his emails and realised that she had called in sick.

 _Surely it has to be a coincidence? She can't know?_

He had allowed the thought to torment him for almost three miserable days in the office without her, before he had given in to temptation and allowed himself to visit her flat. He knew that above all else, he had to remain detached enough to remain professional, but friendly enough to convey just how much he missed her. It would be a fine line to tow, but he'd spent years perfecting his poker face for the boardroom. Surely it couldn't let him down just when he needed it the most?

Unfortunately it almost did on when they sat together on the couch and she placed her small hand on top of his to reassure him that she would actually be coming back, and that he hadn't chased her away with his crap behaviour. He'd given her an opportunity to bring it up when he asked her if he'd done anything wrong, but she had vehemently denied it, and he believed her at the time.

The problem for him came about as soon as their hands met. He felt like his heart stopped beating in his chest for a minute, and reminded himself to breathe. He had never been more tempted in his life than he was to move forward on the couch and kiss her. He almost felt time stand still as he contemplated it, taken aback by a sudden rush of need for her. Until Molly broke the moment by reaching to her side and flooding the room with a sudden burst of light from the small lamp. The moment had been broken and he'd suddenly realised that he was back to square one, with not a clue how to fix this problem; one which had suddenly ingrained itself with such tenacity that he had no idea how to remove it from his brain.

Which was why he was left, at 7.30am on a freezing December morning, to run at full pelt whilst constantly trying to ignore that image from the bar that he couldn't escape. The one where he remained behind her at the bar, silently wrapping his fingers around her thighs, encouraging her to continue grinding as he worked towards his destination.

 _Yep, that one._

It wasn't Richard's fault at all. _It was his._ And he had a horrible feeling that he was going to have to deal with the repercussions of it very shortly.

* * *

 **AN. Ok, so it seems like a few of you have been anxious to know where CJ is with this whole mess, and here it is! I know this was a little shorter, and maybe feels like a bit of a filler chapter, but I feel like it's kind of necessary to show us where both of them have reached with the situation. Next time, CJ might just be forced into addressing his feelings…**

 **And also, thanks for the lovely feedback - it's much appreciated!**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN. Advance warning - this is a long one! Hope you enjoy :-)**

* * *

8 am

"You're back" Charles smiled with genuine delight on his approach to her desk. The familiarity of the sight that greeted him was welcome; Molly sitting making her way through small, organised piles of paperwork. She looked up from her neatly ordered desk, having been in from the crack of dawn knowing that she would need some extra time to catch up on what had been happening in her absence.

"Looks like it" she grinned at the sight of him, the familiar prospect of him in his running gear warming her. She had promised herself, after he left her flat a few nights ago that she wouldn't think of him in the way she had been anymore; that she would switch off whatever part of her brain it was that was thinking about him, that was itching to touch him. She would come to work, do her job, and that would be it. But the way he was silently beaming at her suddenly made her flush, and she briefly looked down at her hands on her desk as the sensation of being subject to his gaze washed over her. She looked back up and they both smiled wordlessly, neither knowing what to say to break the somewhat awkward silence.

Charles caught himself first, the necessary words making themselves available to him. "It's good to have you back, Molly" he spoke sincerely, with a tenderness to his gaze as he backed away from her desk, ready to take his morning shower as usual.

"Good to be back" she murmured as he walked away. She caught herself watching his tight bum as he walked away, admiring the way the drawstring of his jogging pants sat low on his hips and mentally scolded herself before reconsidering it.

 _Oh come on_. _I'm only human._

She sniggered to herself as he walked away, and she could have sworn she saw the faint hint of a smile on his lips when he turned back to catch her staring. She immediately dropped her eyes to her desk and he carried on walking, shaking his head playfully.

* * *

Less than half an hour later, Molly approached his office with a coffee in her hand for him, as was their morning routine. She entered with hesitance when she didn't see him at his desk, despite the fact that the door was opened. She peered round the door and noticed him in the corner of the room. He was still getting himself ready for the day, one cufflink in his mouth whilst he attached its partner to his other cuff.

Flustered by the sight of him not yet ready, she stammered and turned to leave. "Sorry, I'll come back."

"It's fine. Sit down" His words were muffled by the cufflink placed between his teeth.

 _Lucky cufflink._

He gestured towards the spare seat in the office with his head as he continued to fix himself. Molly placed his coffee down on the desk and took her seat. She watched him briefly; his hair still slightly damp from the shower, the curls combed out so that there was only a slight wave to his hair. He must have had it cut when she was off, it looked a little shorter. She briefly sighed with envy at the thought of the hairdresser who got to run their hands through it.

Both cufflinks now in place, he lifted the collar of his shirt to allow him to tie his tie, moving towards his desk as he fixed a knot in it. He said nothing of the fact that Molly was wordlessly watching him get ready, simply enjoying the fact that she was back at work and willing to sit in his office while he carried out such boring tasks. If he could have read her mind at that moment, he would have realised that no boring thoughts were going through it. Instead, she was imagining what lay beneath his crisp white shirt, and what would happen if she made her way over to him to fix his tie for him.

She would use the material to pull his head down towards her, and slowly lick his bottom lip with her tongue. He had a habit of biting his lower lip, but she would make sure that she was the one biting it.

 _Molly! Too far!_

Dammit. Her internal warning voice was correct and she reined it in. Only, there was a problem with that, and she felt duty bound to point it out.

"Your tie's wonky."

He looked down to examine his handiwork, hoping that Molly hadn't noticed he was paying far more attention to her than the way he tied his tie. She was dressed in her usual work attire, but he found himself admiring the way her hair was falling around her shoulders. She was wearing a simple black skirt and blouse, with thick tights. The outfit clung to her in all of the right places, emphasising the curves he had now grown used to appreciating. He tried to forget the thoughts that had been tormenting him on his morning run, and focused on what she was saying instead.

"What's wonky?" He tried to recall what she'd been saying.

She stood without further words and made her way over to him, knowing she was crossing a line, but allowing herself to do it anyway. She loosened his tie slightly, taking a deep breath to inhale the scent of his aftershave. He smelled clean and masculine; it was obvious he'd recently emerged from the shower. She'd pay good money to own a bottle of whatever aftershave he was wearing for her own personal sniffing uses; it was currently playing havoc with her ovaries.

As she fixed his tie into a proper knot and tightened it properly, she grinned at the fact she'd managed to successfully keep a steady hand.

"There you go. Perfect" she began to edge away when she noticed a glimmer of darkness in his eyes. The temptation to lay both palms in his chest was overwhelming, but she resisted. He wasn't saying a word, and she cursed herself for overstepping the mark. He cleared his throat forcefully as she stepped back and sat back down on the chair.

"We have a visitor today." He forced a smile from somewhere in his body.

"Oh yeah. Who's that then?"

She heard a rap of knuckles on the open door behind her and turned back. As she saw the identity of the visitor, her eyes lit up and she grinned.

"Hello stranger!"

Marco Falcone, founder of Astratto, stood at the door with a wide grin. "Speak of the devil" announced Charles as he moved towards his old friend and boss. They embraced in the type of hug that Molly had never seen him enter into with any of his male colleagues. Then again, Marco was a one-off. He was typically Italian; demonstrative in his affection whether with friends or colleagues, and utterly charming with it. His staff adored him, particularly the female contingent. He was genuinely handsome; a little shorter than Charles but with a broader build, his solid muscle apparent to anybody who met him. His dark hair was long and slightly at odds with the polished suit he wore at all times, but somehow he pulled the look off with great success.

Marco moved towards Molly, taking her hand in his as he kissed it. She blushed bright pink, still recovering from the incident with fixing Charles' tie for him only minutes previously.

"Molly, _bella_ , it is wonderful to see you. Is life treating you well?" He grinned as he let go of her hand.

"Oh you know me Marco, non-stop excitement" she commented sarcastically, knowing that it would make him laugh.

"I'm sure a beautiful girl like you has many tales to tell" he winked conspiratorially at her as she giggled at his playful tone. Neither noticed Charles lean against his desk with raised eyebrows, taking in the scene with a slight glance of disapproval.

 _What the fuck is he doing? Is he flirting?_

"Can I get you a coffee Marco?" Molly moved to exit the room and let the two men get on with whatever they had to discuss. Marco placed a hand over the top of her wrist and gently urged her towards him. " _bella_ , you are an angel. Grazie." From anyone else it would have been far too much, but coming from Marco, she could only laugh lightly at the overstepping of personal boundaries. Charles wasn't laughing, and continued to take in the scene with a near murderous look on his face.

"I'll be right back with it." Molly smiled as she exited the room.

* * *

As she walked from the office, closing the door behind her, Molly caught sight of Emily rising from her desk and rushing towards her, almost knocking her down in the process.

"Don't close the bloody door" she hissed at Molly. "There goes my morning viewing!"

" _Hi Molly, good to have you back Molly_ " she muttered at her colleague before peering back at the closed door "Why does the door need to be open anyway?"

"Oh it's alright for you! You just got to see the two of them together up close, the rest of us can only take what we can get!" Emily sighed as they both made their way towards the coffee machine.

"What you on about?"

"Oh come on, girl. ' _Sexy and sexier_ ' through there. What I'd give to be the meat in that sandwich! Although there'd be other types of meat involved if I had my way.."

Molly grimaced at the thought of her colleague anywhere near Charles in any such capacity. "Jesus Em, alright. God, I get the picture."

"I honestly can't decide which one I fancy more, they're both so bloody fit. Both at the same time, that'd do the trick." Emily grinned as she stood in a near trance as Molly pressed the button to fill a small cup with espresso.

"Earth to Emily" Molly waved the coffee in front of her after she was unresponsive for several minutes. "Where'd you go?"

"I think you can guess!" Her grin said it all, and Molly sniggered with great mirth as she handed her the coffee.

"Tell you what, why don't you take Marco his coffee? Tell him I had to take a phone call." She grinned at the wide look of gratefulness on the younger girl's features.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you Molls?" Emily grabbed the coffee and sauntered towards Charles' office, turning back to share another smile with Molly, who let out a low laugh and made her way back to her desk.

* * *

12pm

After an inordinately long amount of time spent by both men discussing the plans which Marco had afoot for the London branch, the door of Charles' office opened and both emerged, laughing at a private joke. Molly's head rose from the pile of paperwork in which she had been immersed as Marco made his way towards her desk, sitting on the wood. She tried not to laugh as she watched Emily's eyes bulge from her head, presented with the perfect image of the back of both men.

"You two finished then?"

Marco moved nearer to her. "For now _bella_. Charles has kept me up to date with what is going on here."

Charles' eyes narrowed as he watched the interaction, struggling to tell whether the behaviour was simply part of Marco's usual flirtatious act, of whether he was actually going the extra step and flirting outright with Molly. He feared it was the latter, and Molly didn't exactly seem unreceptive to it.

 _Why shouldn't she? It's not like I've got the balls to make a move on her._

Sure enough, there was a little more of the inappropriate touching and comments as he watched them speak. He forced his clenched fists into his pockets, his jaw tightened as he watched the unmistakable flirtation. Molly seemed slightly embarrassed but not unresponsive. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach just watching, and cleared his throat to try and involve himself in whatever the thread of the conversation was. He had almost completely lost himself in a haze of unexpected jealousy.

"Charles, tell Molly that she must join me" he picked up the end of the conversation as he focused on the way Marco's hand rested at the base of Molly's back.

"Join you where?" he muttered under his breath, still trying to tear his eyes away from the sight.

"The client drinks that I mentioned." Marco observed Charles with a curious look on his face as he turned back to Molly. "Charles has already turned down my offer, but Molly, _bella_ , you must join me so that we can catch up. I insist."

Molly felt distinctly backed into a corner with the demand but nodded regardless.

 _What the hell, I've got nothing to lose._

"Alright then, you're on." She missed Charles' slack jawed stare of indignation as Marco beamed at her acceptance.

* * *

10pm

The office was a darkened shell, with only a small number of solitary lights remaining switched on; those filled with sole workers burning the midnight oil. Molly saw that one of those offices belonged to Charles, and crept past as she went to retrieve her flat keys from where they sat on her desk. Her careful tiptoes weren't quiet enough, and he looked up from his desk to locate the source of the noise.

"Who's there?" he called out to the darkness on hearing the quiet creaks just outside of his office. The door opened slightly, and Molly's head appeared to the side of it.

"Sorry to disturb you. Forgot my keys." She held up the offending items in her hand to confirm her words. She had to grip the keys to avoid dropping them when she looked up to face him. The only way she could describe his stance would be intense. He sat at his desk, hair ruffled and wild as though he had been pacing and running his hands through it, the way he only did when he was really stressed. His eyes were swimming with something she didn't recognise, and he seemed agitated.

"What's wrong?" Her eyes continued to rake over him as she took in his stressed appearance. He seemed to realise she was picking up the clues in his appearance, and visibly appeared to compose himself.

"Nothing. Why would there be anything wrong?" His tone was harsh and detached, and she knew right then that something was definitely wrong. He didn't talk to her like that; or rather, he hadn't ever, until now. Even when he was stressed to his absolute maximum, he usually always reserved a hint of a friendly smile and tone for her. This version of him seemed to be angry, and she had a horrible feeling that the anger was directed at her. As she stood before him, she noticed his jaw clench very slightly. He pulled yet another raking hand through his curls, showing off his exposed arms up to his elbow, and she felt her stomach quiver at the sight. She simply stood, wordlessly, taking him in.

"How was your evening?" He fixed a smile onto his face, but it was beginning to look more like a grimace.

"It was..nice." She wasn't lying. Molly was worried it would have been weird being in the company of her boss's boss, but in reality, Marco was charming, and sparkling company. From the minute they had sat down together with the guests, he'd made her feel like he was interested in what she had to say. It was surreal, and a little awkward, but she'd be lying if she said it wasn't nice.

 _Is that what's up with him? He's upset that Marco's showing me more attention than he's showing him?_

She saw his jaw tighten again at her response, and she couldn't hold it in any longer.

"What's the matter with you?"

"I told you, nothing. Shouldn't you be going home?" He stood and gathered a pile of papers, trying to send some sort of subliminal message to her to get the hell out of his office before he said something he would regret later. All it served to do was fire her up.

She made her way closer to him. "I'll go in a minute, once you've told me what's going on."

He visibly balked at her concern and looked straight at her, his eyes burning. "Will you be going home, or to Marco's hotel? I hear he has a lovely suite at the Ritz, I'm sure you'll see it soon."

She felt like she'd been slapped, and visibly stepped back. "What did you just say to me?"

"Fucking hell-" he muttered to himself as he paced the room, looking firmly at the floor, and suddenly hating himself for letting his baying subconscious escape to the surface for just a minute. "-forget it. Just go, would you?"

"You think I'm gonna go, when you've just said something like that to me? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I've already told you, nothing's wrong!" He made his way to the expanse of glass that faced out to the view of the night time London skyline, hoping that if he ignored her, she would go away. He briefly wondered if that would also work with the jealous thoughts that were currently taunting him; if he ignored them, would they also go away? He soon had his answer - neither Molly or his thoughts would disappear, no matter how much he willed them to.

Outrage had taken over her at the way she had been spoken to, and she marched pointedly towards where he stood at the glass. The only light in the large office was the lamp at his desk, which had been pointed resolutely at the paperwork he was completing. As a result, she struggled to see much beyond his outline, illuminated mainly by the city lights outside the huge expanse of glass. He turned to her, and she saw his eyes glimmer with fury. She should have been more wary, but buoyed by the couple of glasses of wine she'd had with Marco, she found her resolve and stared right back at him, matching every flicker of anger with her own eyes.

"You've got no right to speak to me like that. How long have we worked together?" He went to answer, but she cut him off by answering her own question. "2 years, that's how long. And after all that time, you think you can suddenly treat me like this?"

Her tone was harsh, and he suddenly felt like he'd been struck, such was the sharpness in her voice. "I'm not treating you like anything Molly. I'm stating the facts." He encroached further upon her personal space, moving towards her body as his deep sense of rage about the whole episode settled in. "You're the one who went on a date with him." He winced as the words left his mouth, knowing how pathetic he sounded.

She laughed out loud at that one. "It wasn't a bloody date!" She cried out bitterly, noting the irony of the fact that it was his dates with Alice that had already made her wild with jealousy. He was acting just as pathetically as she had been.

"Jealous, are you?" She spat the question out before she'd even had a chance to consider it properly. She knew when she saw the fire in his eyes that she'd hit the nail right on the head.

Before she was aware of what was happening, he'd moved close enough for her to feel the ragged breaths in his chest as he struggled to answer the question. His proximity to her meant she was failing to concentrate on anything but his imposing presence. Despite the fact that she was in heels, her head still only reached his chest, and she stood up as straight as she could, chin raised in defiance so that she could stare him out. She had no idea where she'd found such confidence, but she rode the coat tails of it, meeting his angry stance equally successfully.

Something flickered in the way he watched her, and she suddenly saw the heat in his eyes for what it truly was. He looked almost pained, although she was only able to examine the look for a couple of seconds before he suddenly brought his lips crashing down on hers. Before she was fully aware of what was happening, she was responding with complete acquiescence to his frantic kisses. She could feel his hands running through her hair as his tongue assaulted her senses, wreaking havoc as it buried itself deep inside of her mouth. In turn, her hands made their way towards him, attracted as though the force of a magnet pulled them towards him. One hand wound it's way through the curls on his head; the other running its way up his back, feeling the taut muscles which she had fantasised about so often.

Her brain wasn't engaging in any way with what was going on, her senses were simply responding to every stimulation currently taking over them. It was incredible; his body felt like a furnace bringing unbearable heat towards her body, whilst all she could hear were the low growls escaping from his throat as he moaned deeply into her mouth. It felt like he was just as out of control as she was, and she lapped it up gratefully. She could finally taste and smell him up close, in her arms. It was no longer a hazy fantasy concocted in her brain, and it was everything she had ever dreamed it would be.

His hand continued to run through her hair, but one had moved to her waist, holding and trapping her between his solid body and the pane of glass separating them from the London skyline. Her coat now lay on the floor, having been quickly removed and discarded by his wandering hands. Her back was pressed firmly against the glass, and his hand explored further, running along her blouse to trace over her chest with a gentle touch despite his clear dominance in the situation. He then took her by surprise when he suddenly removed his other hand from her hair and reached down to grab her thigh and hoist her up closer to him, using the thick pane of glass for leverage and forcing her to wrap her legs around his body.

She gasped with surprise before he continued to kiss her with a newfound urgency, their tongues continuing to explore. He held her against the clear surface with his strong arms, a hand travelling to where her backside curved against it so that he could feel her. She shivered in response, knowing how out of control this situation was rapidly becoming. Several of the buttons on her shirt were now open thanks to his long fingers, leaving her shirt to gape open and her lacy balcony bra to peek out from underneath. Almost as soon as this fact registered with Molly, Charles pulled away for the first time from their kisses and wasted no time in lifting her slightly higher so that he could sink his mouth to her collarbone, marking a trail downwards as he travelled towards the thin lace of her bra.

Molly felt like a starving animal, desperate to feel as much of him as she could. Whilst he continued with his journey towards her breasts, she clawed at his shirt until it was no longer tucked into his pristine work trousers, the crumpled material now pulled out so that she could slide her hands under it to feel his bare skin. As soon as she had provided herself with access, she heard and felt his moans deepen further against her skin. Although she couldn't see his chest or his back, she took great delight in running her fingers across every spare inch of skin that she could, savouring the feel of the muscles that were currently flexing as he held her up against the glass. His skin was soft but clammy, the situation clearly having a physical effect on him in more ways than the now persistent hardness she could feel pressed against her lower thigh. She brought her hand down lower to cup that hardness for just a few seconds, and he groaned deeply into her chest in response.

She heard herself mewl slowly as he fought back and found a sensitive section of skin with his tongue. Encouraged by her response, he swirled a tongue over the material that covered her hardened nipple and she cried out further. Despite her enjoyment of the sensation, she pulled him back up towards her mouth, needing to savour the warm heat of his kisses once more.

All that could be heard within the deadly silent room was the urgent smacking of lips on lips, along with the husky moans Charles was currently emitting, muffled by the fact that they travelled straight into Molly's mouth. She let out a long moan of her own, then suddenly, another noise could be heard in the room.

It was a throat being cleared. Loudly.

It took more than a few seconds, and another clearing of the throat before either party pressed against the glass realised they had company. Molly pulled away from the kiss first, still in his arms with her legs wrapped around him as he held her up. He rested a forehead on hers for only a brief second as his chest heaved, knowing that the sudden moment of passion had come to an end. Both tried to regain their normal pattern of breathing as Molly dared to squint into the low light to see who was there.

Marco stood, car keys in hand, and a faint glimmer in his eye.

"I did wonder what was taking so long, but now I understand."

By now Charles had started to become slightly more responsive, returning to something of a recovered state. He eased Molly down from his arms until her feet reached the floor, and held her shirt closed, knowing that she still didn't have the presence of mind to shield herself. She took the hint and frantically began to inch her skirt back down to its normal length and redo the buttons on her shirt with shaking hands as she tried to regain some sort of composure.

He allowed himself to look at her briefly while she was distracted by the task; her hair was wild and bore the hallmarks of the fact that he had been running his hands through it frantically. Her lips were a deep shade of red, and swollen from the passionate kisses they had been sharing. He knew he'd had that effect on her, and he felt a strange sensation of regret mixed with fear tear right through him as he swore to himself that she'd never looked more beautiful to him. He looked away before she realised he was staring, his chest still heaving as his lungs fought for air. His hands were gripped to his hips for grounding.

He suddenly registered his own state of near undress and tucked his shirt back into his trousers, taking a moment to try not to make it any more apparent than it already was that he had a raging hard-on. He dared to raise his eyes to Marco, who looked entirely amused by the whole situation. Charles' gaze then returned to Molly, who wouldn't even raise her eyes to look at him, fixing them firmly on the floor.

Marco shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to maintain an even tone in his voice, despite his amusement. "Do you still want that lift Molly?"

"No. Thanks for the offer, but it's fine." she stuttered, still fixing herself and picking up her coat from where it had fallen in the floor to pull it on and wrap it around herself. Her cheeks burned bright red and Charles cursed internally at how much he'd cocked this whole thing up.

"It's fine Marco. I'll make sure she gets home." He stepped in without pausing to think about whether Molly would appreciate it. She clearly didn't, as she grabbed her bag and stalked as fast as her legs would carry her from the room.

"I'll get myself home. I don't need either of you."

She said it in such a way that Charles inferred the clear meaning from her that she didn't need either of them in any capacity, including as her escort home.

He called out to her once as she left, but there was no response, only the sound of her heels clacking down the corridor as she rushed down it, wrapping her coat tighter around her. She didn't look behind her at any point as she departed, leaving a chuckling Marco and a shell-shocked Charles in her wake.

* * *

 **AN2 - if you're still reading after a much longer than usual update, then thank you! I should probably mention that if you're having any problems visualising Marco, then look no further than good old Captain Poldark. Only Italian, and in a suit. How much would you like to work in that office?…:-D**

 **Thanks so much for the lovely comments you've been leaving, and I hope the chapter was enjoyable!**


	7. Chapter 7

2am

Charles stared at the ceiling as he lay flat on his back in bed, hands locked behind his head to keep them occupied. The only light in the room came from the illuminated numbers on the alarm clock at the side of his bed.

 _I should have gone after her._

Knowing that he should have gone after her and actually doing it were two completely different things. He knew exactly where her flat was, but realistically if he had followed her home there would only have been one thing he would want to do, and that was to follow on from where they had been so rudely disturbed. Ok, so there was more than _one_ thing he wanted to do, but they all deviated around the same theme; touching Molly in every single way possible. He'd certainly given it a good try in the space of five completely out of control minutes in his office.

Never in his life had he had such an intense reaction to a set of circumstances. The man who he'd turned into tonight was somebody who wasn't familiar to him. Not once in the space of his marriage, or with previous girlfriends, had he felt quite such an instinctive, urgent _need_. Loss of control wasn't his style, and he couldn't quite get to grips with the emotions which had taken over his consciousness that evening.

In the absence of being able to make sense of it, he let brief memories wander through his mind; Molly pulling at his shirt with the same desperation he was displaying, and sinking her fingers into the bare flesh on his back, gripping tightly, her fingernails sinking into his flesh. He was sure there would be marks on his skin to prove that it did actually happen; that it wasn't just an extension of his already fevered imagination when it came to Molly.

She wanted him. He knew that now; there was simply no other explanation for the way she had reacted to his touch. The sounds he had heard from her as he kissed and fondled her were something that couldn't be faked. It made the moment even more sensual, and he felt himself twitch to life in response to the memory.

 _Stop it, Charles. You need to look her in the eye tomorrow. Thinking about her hands all over you isn't going to help._

However much he tried to stop thinking about it though, he found it impossible. She had been so responsive; so in tune with him. It was increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything other than the tightness in his groin.

"Fucking hell Charles. You're not 15. Stop." He muttered the words into the dark, hoping his traitorous body might actually listen to him.

* * *

3am

There had been very little in the way of sleeping in Molly's bed over the course of a few hours. Constant tossing and turning, combined with fresh memories of the events of the evening struck her as she lay alone.

 _Go to sleep._

It wasn't happening. The silence only served to reinforce the constant ticking of her brain, tormenting her with a sudden memory of Charles' tongue running along hers inside of her mouth.

She turned to bury her head in the bed. "Fuuuuck!" The muffled scream hit her pillow as she buried deeply into it, wishing that she could wipe the memories from her head for a few hours. Just to let her get some sleep.

Although she wouldn't want to wipe the memories forever. No, the experience in his office had been something that she was absolutely mortified about, and the embarrassment was still raw, but she was still determined that she should be able to relive and replay it in glorious technicolor at her pleasure for the rest of her life. It was only fair. For at least five minutes, the man who had played the starring role in all of her fantasies had treated her as if she too was the object of his desires.

He wanted her. She felt it radiate from him during that few minutes in more ways than one. Even if the want was limited to those few moments where he took her in his arms and acted on it, he had wanted her at that precise moment in time. She flushed with a combination of pleasure and deep embarrassment again just reliving it, despite the fact that she was all alone. A vivid memory of her legs wrapped around him while her hand reached down and stroked the hard bulge in his trousers had her trembling again. He had moaned into her mouth with frantic need at the same time as he rocked his hips towards her hand. The memory of how that made her feel took her by surprise, making her bury her head in the pillow with mortification yet again.

 _Go the fuck to sleep Molly. Stop thinking about it._

* * *

3.11am

 _It was_ _really_ _hard though. And big._

"Aaaaargh. Stop it!" She cried out loud into her pillow yet again.

* * *

3.20am

 _Oh my god. He had his mouth on my bra. I let my boss suck my nipple. In his office._

"Molly" she muttered to herself one last time. "Fucking shut up!"

* * *

9am

Unlike every other day of the week, Molly didn't get up and rush to work. The Christmas lights had been switched on in Oxford Street a few nights before, and she took an intended detour to look at them, despite the fact that it was broad daylight, promising herself that she wasn't avoiding him, she just wanted to enjoy a long walk to clear her head after a sleepless night. Some fresh air.

 _Yeah, fresh air in the middle of London. Good one, Molls._ She told the mocking voice in her head to shut up and piss off.

She eventually wandered into the reception of the building at a couple of minutes past 9, painting a false smile on her face as she walked past Pearl, who stood in front of the reception desk. A huge Christmas tree had been installed at the ground floor, almost meeting the incredibly high marble ceiling, and Pearl had been standing taking it in with a satisfied smile on her face.

"Mornin' love!" Was the automatic greeting that met Molly as she glanced around. Normally she would be all smiles and small talk, but this morning was different. She felt her nerves fray with the knowledge that she would see him very shortly and bundled her freezing cold hands into her pocket, simply continuing to walk and meeting the older women's enthusiastic greeting with a "morning" and a downwards gaze as her thoughts gathered elsewhere. Pearl frowned with disappointment at the muted response from the girl who usually had a smile that could cheer anybody up.

"You alright darlin?" She enquired as Molly continued to walk past with a faraway look in her eyes.

"I'm fine Pearl, sorry. Million miles away."

"Bit like that boss of yours then. Thought his long face was gonna trip him up this morning. You two ain't had a falling out have you?"

Molly visibly deflated at the notion of Charles being upset by their encounter, and resisted the urge to flee without even making it to her desk. She carried on putting one foot in front of the other.

"Nah, we're fine. Have a good day Pearl." She sank against the wall of the lift as the doors closed in front of her.

 _Here goes nothing_.

* * *

Molly could feel his eyes burning into her as she made her way from the lift to her desk, but she refused to look up, still trying to find her confidence from somewhere. She hadn't even taken her coat off when the phone sprang into life. She dared to look at the extension number and sighed heavily, removing her coat and sitting down before eventually picking up the handset.

"Why are you phoning me?"

"You're my PA. I'm allowed to phone you."

 _He sounds like shit._ His tone was defensive, and she had to concede that he had a point. "Plus I'm checking that you did actually come into work rather than pull a sickie. Again." She was almost offended until she remembered just how close she had been to yet another sickie that morning. _Busted_.

"You know that I came into work, you just watched me sit down at my desk." There was a silence from him and she continued with nervous hesitance. "What d'you need me to do?"

"Come in my office."

Before the words were even out of his mouth, Charles regretted the order in which he'd said them. He resisted the urge to curse out loud and held his breath as he hoped she didn't pick up on his turn of phrase.

Silence reigned for a few seconds while Molly grimaced at the unintended double entendre and peeked over her desk to see him in his office, holding his head despairingly in the hand that didn't hold the receiver. She suddenly grinned at his obvious discomfort at the way he had worded the request and felt an inappropriate giggle begin to build in her chest. Finally she let it out, and she watched him smirk with relief as she continued to sneak peeks at him.

"Well that was badly worded, wasn't it?" She continued to giggle as she watched him snigger. "Anyway, can't do that I'm afraid. Anything else?"

She could see that he was grinning from ear to ear now. "I apologise. I didn't have you down as a stickler for grammar"

 _Another silence._ She stared at him as he silently urged her to respond.

She gifted him with a broad smile. "Apology accepted."

Charles grinned nervously before taking the plunge. "So. You can't _come_ in my office, or you can't come _into_ my office?"

She looked up again towards him to see him smiling wickedly whilst looking straight at her, and she tried to keep a straight face at the loaded question. "Can't do either right now. Thanks very much for the offer, mind."

"Fair enough. In that case I'll come right out there to talk to you about last night. Just in front of Emily's desk where she can hear me. I know she's usually too busy daydreaming, but maybe this time she'll actually listen to what I'm saying."

Molly was filled with mild panic at the thought and stood immediately, still talking into the cordless handset. "I'm coming."

"Now that's what I like to hear." He let out a husky laugh and noticeably relaxed into his chair, grinning as he sat back and watched her approach his office. She recognised his change in tone as he spoke down the phone. It had merged from mildly playful to downright flirtatious. "-And Molly?"

She unwittingly licked her lips as she hovered at the door, still talking into the phone. "Yeah?"

He smirked widely "Close the door behind you this time."

* * *

The door sufficiently closed, Molly dared to slip into the seat opposite his desk. It was her usual place, but she felt as if everything was new. He was looking at her differently. She was looking at him differently. Well actually, she wasn't, she was simply failing to fight back the emotions she had been hiding for weeks now.

He was watching her wordlessly, gazing across her body, and she knew right then that he'd been doing the same as her; replaying it all in his head.

"So.." He drew the word out with a tiny bite of his lower lip and a grin.

"So.." she mimicked his playful smile as she shuffled nervously in the seat. The intensity of his gaze was comparable only to being on a stage, under an intense spotlight.

"We should probably talk."

She raised an eyebrow as her eyes raked over him. He had moved forward in his chair so that his arms rested on the desk. She focused her gaze on his hands, which fidgeted awkwardly with a pen as he sat before her. "Ain't that what we're doing?"

Charles also took the opportunity to stare at his hands. "I mean talk properly. About what happened." He looked up from his fidgeting fingers and gave what could only be described as an earnest look. "I feel like I should apologise."

"Why should you apologise? I don't think you did anything wrong. Well apart from the bit where you accused me of being a slapper, that wasn't the best feeling in the world. Suppose I didn't do myself any favours by acting like one mind you."

This time it was Charles' turn to shift uncomfortably. "You're not a slapper, and you didn't act like one. I was out of order saying anything about Marco." He added the next statement in a smaller voice "You were right, I was jealous."

"Jealous of what?" she whispered, needing to hear the words from his own mouth.

"Marco taking you out. I wanted it to be me." He sighed deeply, and she couldn't stand to hear the doubt suddenly creep into his voice. "I'm not usually a jealous bastard. I just couldn't stand the thought of it."

"Why?" She breathed the question before holding the remaining breath waiting to exit her body. This time he looked up at her.

"Why do you think, Molly?"

"I really don't know" she answered honestly. He stood from his chair and moved round the desk to crouch beside where she sat. Molly found herself suddenly struggling to breathe as he took her hand in his.

His long fingers stroked her hand, and it brought a sudden memory rushing back of the night before, when he had used the same hand to inch his fingers between the buttons on her shirt to undo them one by one. A heated glance from him showed her that he too remembered.

"I'd like to take you out tonight" he murmured. "Will you let me? We can talk."

She knew she could never say no to him when he looked at her like that.

"Course I will."

* * *

12.30pm

Amongst the bustle of the busy day, Molly's phone rang for what felt like the millionth time. She saw it had been forwarded from Charles' line, and lifted it without thinking twice.

"Astratto developments, how can I help you?"

A surprised voice responded. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought I'd dialled the number for Charles James?"

Molly looked up over her desk to sneak a peek into his office. He had his handset glued to his ear as he paced the carpeted floor. Catching her looking at him, he smirked and winked at her, sending her racing heart freefalling down into the depths of her stomach. She felt her body awaken in response to his flirtation, sending signals that had her lower abdomen quivering. _God, I'm in trouble._

She swallowed deeply and tried to clear her head. "You did. I'm afraid he's tied up at the minute. Can I take a message?"

"I wonder if you could. Is that his PA? I think we've met before. It's Alice, his girlfriend."

Her heart raced and stomach dropped yet again, only this time with a different emotion.

 _Oh fucking fuck. You idiot._ She'd stupidly assumed Alice was no longer in the picture.

 _Course she's in the picture. Look at her, then look at you._ A voice filled with self doubt taunted her from inside her head.

The cut glass voice on the phone continued. "I'm going to have to cancel our lunch date today; I've been held up with work unfortunately. I wonder if you could pass the message along to Charles? Tell him I'll make it up to him." Alice laughed airily, a polar opposite to the wave of nausea Molly currently felt pooling in her stomach. She could only croak a response.

"I'll let him know."

* * *

Charles paced the floor of his office mindlessly to occupy himself whilst stuck on a hellishly long conference call. He turned round to watch Molly for a moment as she also spoke on the phone. She was watching him curiously as he spoke, and he couldn't help but send a wink in her direction. His heart caught in his chest as he noticed her blush and look down shyly in response to his attentions, and he couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for her.

 _Christ I've got it bad._

When he next looked up, she had disappeared from her desk, and he found himself irrationally missing the sight of her right in front of him. He'd been so sure that she either wouldn't have turned up today, or else would be hesitant to talk to him. She'd been neither, and he felt himself well up with an excitement that was totally new to him as he tried to think where he could take her after work tonight. Nowhere that was too much, he'd have to be careful not to overwhelm her by going too fast with it all. He'd done that last night and look where it got him.

The only dampener on his mood was the fact that he was going to have to deal with Alice. She'd been texting him for days, and he'd finally given in and agreed to meet her for a coffee at lunchtime. If it had been anybody else, he'd have let them down gently over the phone; given that she was a friend of his sister, he thought it only fair to do it in person. It wasn't her fault that he wasn't attracted to her, and she seemed like a nice enough girl, if a bit keen.

As the conference call wore on in his ear, he sat back down at his desk and flicked through his emails while listening to the conversation with only limited reserves of attention. There was one from Molly which immediately caught his eye:

 _ **From: Dawes, Molly**_

 _ **To: James, Charles**_

 _ **Subject: Telephone message**_

 _ **Took a message while you were on your conference call. Your girlfriend (it was Alice, just incase you're wondering which one) asked me to let you know that she'd have to cancel your lunch date. But it's ok, she'll make it up to you later. Sounds like you're in luck.**_

 _ **I've got a half day of flexitime owed to me, so I've finished for the rest of the day.**_

 _ **I'm sure Alice can 'make it up to you' tonight now that you're free. Suddenly remembered I'm busy.**_

 _ **Molly**_

"Oh fucking hell!" He allowed his fist to come into crashing contact with his desk at the same time as he realised he was still on the transatlantic conference call.

"Sorry everybody" he muttered down the phone. "Small problem with the phone line here, I need to duck out." He tried to sound more confident than he felt as he shook his now red and swelling hand quickly to ease the pain from where he'd punched the wood in frustration.

 _Shit!_

He rose from the seat whilst pulling his suit jacket from where it hung behind the chair. His strides were long and purposeful as he surged past Emily's desk.

"Emily. I'll be gone for the rest of the afternoon. If anybody calls, take a message. I'm not contactable!"

Now he knew he had no choice.

 _I'm going after her._

* * *

 **AN. I'm ducking for cover a bit after this one. Sorry if it's not quite the chapter that anyone was expecting given what happened in the last one, but I had to throw another little spanner in the works for them! I'm intending to keep this as a reasonably short story and end it in another 2 or 3 chapters time, but after that point will try and do a Seeking Assistance part 2, that will live in the M rated section of the site. I think that's the plan! In other words, I've been trying to tow a line with the level of smut, and am now struggling to keep this story reasonably clean (what a shocker!). I'm really grateful for the lovely comments I've had on this considering it's very AU Molly and Charles, and could easily have been a bit of a disaster - thanks so much for the lovely support with it.**


	8. Chapter 8

Her mobile rang shrilly, yet again, and this time Molly gave up and angrily pressed the answer button on the touch screen, not bothering with pleasantries.

"Would you stop bloody phoning me? I'm sure you can cope for an afternoon without me there to skivvy for you."

She hoped her voice sounded more confident than it felt, but after ignoring her constantly ringing phone for an hour, she began to feel the guilt of walking out so suddenly with no notice. If she wasn't careful she'd be looking for a new job as well as drowning her sorrows.

His annoyed voice came crashing through the receiver. "Oh finally, you've remembered you've got a phone - I've only been ringing it for an hour. Will you open the bloody door?"

"What door?"

It was obviously the wrong question, as his pissed off tone intensified. "The door to your flat. The one I've been knocking for the last fifteen minutes with nobody bothering to answer."

She shrugged with feigned indifference, briefly convincing herself that she didn't give two shits that he'd chased after her following her narky email. "Probably cos I'm not in. Why are you at my flat anyway?"

"Did you really think I wasn't going to try and find you after your little disappearing act? Where are you if you're not at home?"

"Why d'you care?"

His annoyance increased tenfold as he made his way back down the stairs to the ground floor. "I'm not doing this over the phone, just tell me where you are and I'll come and get you."

"Maybe I don't wanna see you." She may as well have stuck her tongue out with childish insolence, and it wound him up even further.

"Well maybe you don't have much choice, Molly. I can just stay here if you won't tell me. I'll camp out on your doorstep till you come back."

"Something tells me you ain't the camping type."

"And something tells me you're trying to change the fucking subject. _Where_ are you?"

She sighed, knowing better than to try and put up more of a fight. He'd catch up with her sooner or later; she may as well get the inevitable rejection from him over and done with as quickly as possible. Pull it off like a plaster, quickly and with as little fuss as possible.

"In the pub"

He sighed with exasperation. "Well that narrows it down. Which bloody pub?"

"The same one we came in after the Navarro deal. The one I met your girlfriend in."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration, extending it to his neck as he made his way out of the block of flats and into the freezing cold street. He stepped carefully over the icy pavement, trying his hardest not to make the day even worse by slipping and ending up on his arse. He was already on his metaphorical arse. "Would you stop calling her that? She's not my girlfriend."

"Thought you didn't wanna do this over the phone."

"Correct-" he continued to talk into the phone as he hailed a cab from the side of the road. "-Stay where you are, I'll be there in twenty minutes" he muttered as his long legs clambered into the taxi.

* * *

As he entered the modern bar in the centre of the city, Charles savoured the warm air as it greeted him. The place was all wood and low light, the atmosphere in it oppressively thick. The place was deserted, the mid afternoon lull in business clear to see. Only Molly sat, almost hidden in the low light of the corner, a full glass in front of her. He instantly tensed upon seeing the look of hesitance on her face.

 _Have I fucked this up before it's even started_?

As he made his way towards her, he tried to focus on how he could try and fix the situation, on ways to win her round despite the obvious misunderstanding. He found that all he wanted to do was to return to their easy, familiar relationship. But he found himself needing so much more than that from her. The cold look in her eyes was unfamiliar to him, and it chilled him to the bone. All he could do was try to thaw her out with the god's honest truth.

He sat down beside her at the leather lined booth in the corner, intentionally nudging her shoulder with his. She didn't acknowledge his presence, simply staring at her drink.

He cleared his throat nervously, suddenly struggling to think what to say before deciding that some small talk might be needed in the frosty atmosphere. "Drinking in the afternoon?"

She emitted a heavy sigh without looking up at him. "Bad day."

Silence took over again for a few minutes until he broke it, rubbing the rough stubble that had formed on his chin. "She's not my girlfriend you know."

"That's what she called herself. Anyway, why should I care? I'm your PA, not your keeper." She focused miserably on the glass before taking a sudden mouthful for courage and wincing.

"What the fuck are you drinking anyway?" He grabbed the glass and inhaled before holding back a cough. "Jesus. Is that straight vodka?"

She eyed him angrily. "I told you, it's been a bad day. Bad month really." She added the final sentence as a mutter.

"Why's it so bad?"

She held the glass to her lips again before pulling it away with another wince. "I'm not havin' this conversation with you. It's not a good idea."

"Well you need to talk to me about something. So if it's not going to be your bad month, why don't I tell you about my bad couple of weeks?" She opened her mouth to interject at the same time as he placed a long finger to sit directly over her lips, pausing her and ignoring the jolt he felt through his body as his fingers made contact with the soft skin. "-And you can shut up and listen for a change."

He held his breath momentarily, knowing that he was putting his whole relationship with her on the line with this confession. He was a man who'd built a career on carefully considered gambles in the boardroom, but this particular moment felt like it was balanced on a knife edge, and he couldn't quite tell whether it was going to pay off. The consequences of it failing, and him losing any relationship at all with her would be disastrous, but he was now backed into a corner.

 _Deep breath Charles. Man up._

"I was in here, with you, when I first started to feel it. Well that's a lie actually, I'd felt it before that, but this was the first time I actually let myself acknowledge it."

"What?" She breathed, still reeling from those few seconds where he held a solitary index finger to her lips to keep her quiet. It'd left her lips by now, and she felt its absence sorely.

"This. Us. You." He struggled to put into words what he'd been feeling, and wondered how the woman in front of him could reduce him to a stuttering fool so easily. "You're beautiful, and you're funny, and you're the only person who can make me laugh and mean it. And I mean the _only_ person. I knew that already, but then I realised that there was even more to it."

Molly was stunned into silence by his confession, and just looked at him, her eyes urging him to continue.

"God you really are being quiet, this is unheard of" he joked quietly, feeling entirely uncomfortable with the depth of his confession when he still had no idea how she felt about the situation. He ran a thumb along the edge of her hand where it rested on her lap, and felt her shiver underneath his touch. Emboldened by her response, he continued. He lifted her chin with his index finger so that she had no choice but to look at him. She could feel his hand tremble ever so slightly as he did it.

"I want you" he confessed with nothing more than a husky whisper, trying not to let the blush on her cheeks captivate him any more than he already was. "I want you so much Molly. It scares me."

She felt like every nerve ending in her body was on fire, the numbing effect of the vodka she'd already drank counteracted by the heat rushing through her body.

 _Thank fuck I didn't drink any more. I want to remember every single second of this._

He continued unabated, determined to lay his cards on the table. "I can assure you that Alice isn't my girlfriend. We've been on 4 dates. I've kissed her twice, and gone a bit further than that once. Both of those times I've found myself pretending she's you." He said it matter of factly, as though it was a totally normal occurrence, trying to mask his shame at the whole sorry mess. "It's making me feel like a total shit if I'm honest. I was meant to meet her at lunchtime so I could tell her in person that it's not happening. Thought I owed her that much at least." He hung his head, still embarrassed by the time he'd gone back to Alice's flat and, during a bout of heavy petting on the couch, left suddenly when he found himself picturing the blonde hair in his fingers as long brunette locks, and feeling intense disappointment that the person he was kissing was almost as tall as him rather than the diminutive object of his affections, who he would have to pick up and wrap his arms around if he wanted her to approach his height. He hadn't actually seen Alice in the flesh since he'd beaten a hasty retreat that night, and it weighed on his conscience.

He fell into a quiet moment, suddenly worried that he'd said far too much. Molly's throat was bone dry, and she scrabbled for some sort of response in the face of his sudden silence. He tried to ease the pressure by playing with a piece of imaginary lint on his trouser leg, suddenly avoiding her eyes.

 _Shit Charles. Too much! Whatever happened to taking it slowly?_

He felt her warm gaze rest on him as he fidgeted. As he began to lose his confidence, he retreated somewhat. "Sorry, I probably shouldn't have said th-"

He was interrupted by a sudden burst from beside him

"I want you too"

She rushed the words out, mortified to even be confessing this to him out loud. "I'm not even sure when it started, really. All I know is that I can't stop thinking about it."

"About what?"

"Y'know." She looked at him shyly and his heart soared yet again. "Me and you, together. Doing a hell of a lot more than we did last night." Her cheeks tinged again at the memory.

He grinned at her obvious embarrassment. "Like what exactly?" This time she nudged him back with her shoulder and resisted the urge to bury her head in her hands. When she looked round at him, she met a pair of chocolate brown eyes that were highly amused, but sparkling with something else.

"Last night was..-" he tailed off before he could complete the sentence.

"Embarassing?" she ventured with a deadpan tone.

"I wasn't going for embarrassing, although I think it's fair to say I shouldered that aspect getting left behind with Marco while you ran for the hills."

This time she did bury her head in her hands. "Oh shit, I forgot about him. What'd he say to you?"

"He thought it was fucking hilarious, you running off and me gawping after you like a fool. Told me I must be crap at seducing a woman if you reacted like that."

Molly giggled at his hurt expression before gathering herself. "You're not. Well I dunno actually. Were you trying to _seduce_ me?" She grinned and drew out the word in a joking tone, but it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Maybe" he arched his head to the side and bit his lip ever so slightly, that trademark move that never failed to make Molly want to bite it for him. He grinned cockily, sensing her suddenly mischievous mood. "Did it work?"

Molly brought the silk material of his grey tie into her hands, running the delicately soft garment through her fingers before she yanked it ever so slightly to bring him ever closer to her. "Not sure. You might need to work on it a bit. Just to check."

He lowered his head towards Molly's, in a fashion completely the opposite of the previous night. Whereas before it had been rushed and full of passion and aching need, this was gentle and filled with what she would most accurately describe as tenderness. He stalled for just a moment as his lips almost met hers, their smiles matching with playful anticipation.

When his lips finally met soft skin, it began as a gentle exploration of the areas he hadn't had a chance to appreciate the night before, such was his haste. This time he made sure to savour the feeling of her slightly moistened lips pressing against his, as his hands moved to his new favourite place; running through her hair. There was no rush this time, just a slow tease from him as he carefully prised her lips open with his tongue. He leaned his body over hers in the booth, blocking her from the view of any other patrons in the bar as he ran a thumb over her cheekbone. His tongue moved into her mouth at the same time as she broke into a low moan, audible only to him. He savoured it like a gift. It was an intensely private moment between the two of them, only in the most public of settings.

They continued in that manner for a few minutes, all hesitancy beginning to melt away as layers of embarrassment were slowly forgotten. Their tongues explored slowly, and his hand moved from her cheek to rest on her waist and stroke rhythmically, but he remained somewhat guarded as to where he let his hands wander, after losing such control with her previously. Tiring of his restraint, Molly took matters into her own hands and placed a wandering hand on his chest, pulling him closer to her, fingers drawing over the same muscles she had felt already. It was a feeling she knew she would never tire of.

She finally pulled away from the embrace with a grin, her lips red and swollen from being kissed so thoroughly. She placed a finger to them as if to ensure the moment had actually happened, that she hadn't dreamt the whole gorgeous episode up. Her grin was matched only by his, and they beamed at each other silently. As their surroundings began to permeate his consciousness again, he registered the music which had begun to play as the bar welcomed the beginning of what would be the office crowd that would fill the place for the rest of the night.

He stood suddenly and held an outstretched hand to her.

"Come on"

"Where we goin?"

"I'm dancing with you. Can't have you doubting my seduction skills."

"I'm not dancing. There's no bleedin' dancefloor for a start, you numpty."

He pulled her from the seated booth regardless, a surprised whoop coming from her as he lifted her without much effort. He placed her in front of him, a hand on each shoulder as he whispered into her ear, ignoring the curious gaze of the bartender, an older man who'd tried not to make it apparent that he'd been watching love's young dream out of the corner of his eye.

"Close your eyes"

She giggled at his request, causing his grin to widen. "Why?"

"I'm trying to be bloody romantic here. Close your eyes for a minute. Trust me." She looked at him and found herself obeying the order without further question.

As she closed her eyes tightly, still laughing, she found her remaining senses heightened in the absence of sight. She could smell the faint scent of him around her, that gorgeous masculine smell she'd been lusting after for weeks. It surrounded her as he wrapped his arms around her body and moved them both in time with the music. She suddenly felt enveloped in a cocoon of warmth as she sighed and wound her arms around his neck, allowing one hand to rest in the curls at the nape.

"I could get used to this" she murmured as she inhaled the very essence of him, and rested her head, her nose trapped in the fabric of his shirt and savouring his firm chest

"That's what I'm hoping" he whispered quietly, for her ears only.

A limited number of early evening drinkers had started to make their way into the darkened and now moderately busy bar, largely ignoring the two bodies who moved together in time to the music.

The only party who continued to keep an eye on them was that bartender. He dried his glasses as he watched, happy to have witnessed at least one scene in his place of work that could bring a wistful smile to his face; as he remembered a time years ago, when he too had felt swept up in a cocoon of love like that, even if neither of the people he watched were aware of it yet.

He almost wished he could telepathically send his thoughts to the young man who looked lost to the world as his chin rested on the top of her head, his eyes closed just like his dancing partners'.

 _Love her. You make sure you love her, and don't let her go._

::::

 **AN. This chapter marks the end of Seeking Assistance. I'll upload the remainder as a new story, imaginatively titled Seeking Assistance Part 2. The new one will be an M rated story, so remember to set your filters at the bottom of the screen to 'all' if you want to see it appear on your list of stories.**

 **Sorry this took a while longer than usual to upload, I've struggled a lot with this chapter for various different reasons. I hope that's not obvious when reading, and as always I really appreciate the lovely words of support I've had with this story.**

 **Thanks, Jen x**


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